


What if it's worth it?

by Narcissa1996



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-10-08 08:37:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 65,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17383274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narcissa1996/pseuds/Narcissa1996
Summary: Story will follow the show's plot quite closely but with the addition of Alma, Julia Montague's intern, which becomes David Budd's love interest. Alma Guinness/David Budd. Months before the storyline of the show, Dave thinks about ending his life but Alma is there to save him. Will he be there to save her life when tables turn? Some smut, not too explicit. Mentions of suicide.Work in progress.





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue 

London itself was a contradiction. It was one of the busiest cities worldwide, and yet, if you knew just where to go, you could end up feeling like you were the only person in the world. For some, like me, it was refreshing and truly cathartic. For others, like you, it was threatening and truly scary. 

I wouldn’t call it rain, but there was a fizzle. My hair was wet and my feet were constantly slipping out of my heels as I walked through pavement. I gazed up, looking at the tall buildings from afar, and decided to take the long way in order to benefit from the calmness some more time. 

I made my way through a park and took off my heels to walk barefoot on the mud. I’d certainly regret it in the morning when the dirt would be incrusted underneath my toenails, but right now, I felt free. And freedom was indisputably the best feeling in the world. 

Not that I didn’t appreciate going to my friend’s band smallish concert on the outskirts, but in the end, there were just too many people and too much noise, too little freedom. The park slowly came to an end and I hesitated putting my shoes back on and getting them dirty, or walking barefoot through a large city pavement.

However, those silly preoccupations soon came to a stop when I saw a figure standing still on the bridge’s guard rail. I slowly approached the figure and saw the man was shaking, crying. 

“Mate, what the fuck!” I yelled, but not too loud as to scare him, just enough to let my presence be known.

He turned his head to look at me. Beautiful face he had, and not even the tears and the swollen eyes could change that. “Go away!” He yelled back, but it sounded more like he was pleading, too weak to give an order.

I shook my head, and walked up closer. I climbed up to guard rail and sat down a couple meters away from him, staring at the deserted road. “I’m sorry mate, but that’s not possible. I believe I have a duty to rescue toward other people.”

“What?” He yelled confusedly trough the wind as it was now raining harder. I was scared he would slip and fall, because I certainly didn’t have the necessary reflexes to stop that from happening. His knees buckled and I thought that was it, but he regained his balance and I was able to breathe again.

“My name’s Alma Guinness.” I said calmly, stretching out my hand knowing that he wouldn’t take. “What’s yours?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he kept staring into the city and I dared a small peak downwards. We were high, but not high enough to guarantee a certain death. He’d probably end up seriously injured for life, though.

“Budd,” he mumbled. “David Budd,” he eventually replied in the thickest Scottish accent I’d ever heard. Good thing I didn’t go to college there because I wouldn’t have understood anyone, I now realized. 

“Nice to meet you, David,” I spoke lightly but inside I was shaking. “Now tell me, why are you doing this?”

“Obvious enough, ain’t it?” His voice seemed impatient, but somehow it felt like he wanted to be reasoned, to be saved. 

“Alright, so your life’s a mess and you want to end it?”

He nodded, crying harder but he didn’t budge, if anything he moved closer to the edge and I instructively closed my eyes but I heard no boom. Tentatively, I opened my eyes and saw him nodding, ever so slightly. “What happened, David?”

He started saying something, but he was crying too hard and it was pouring now. “You need to speak louder!”

“My wife left me!” He yelled, louder than I expected. “And I suck at being a father!” He started hardcore sobbing, his chest heaving.

“And you think jumping from a bridge will solve any of that?” I asked sarcastically, but the truth was I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. “Best case scenario, you die, your wife becomes a widow and your kids lose their father.” He looked at me again, full of agony and I was scared I wasn’t up to the task. “Worst case scenario, you become a vegetable.”

“Will any of those scenarios make you a better father or your wife stay with you?” He was shaking again, this time harder. One of his feet slipped on the wet metal, I tried to grab his leg but I was too far. Out of nowhere, he managed to regain his balance but I couldn’t let this happen again. I started sliding closer to him, slowly enough that he wouldn’t notice. 

“No.” He responded, his voice broken and raw, and yet still so Scottish. 

“Then, this isn’t the solution, David.” I whispered now that I was sitting right next to his feet. “David, I know suicide is tempting, but it’s truly inappropriate in your situation.” He stood still, so very still even though the wind was hitting his body with unhuman strength. 

I stretched out my hand again, the tips of my fingers brushing against his. His hand was frozen. “Take my hand when you’re ready.” I nudged reassuringly. Minutes passed and my arm was starting to cramp badly but I couldn’t let him down.   
I was giving up after a while when all the sudden, I felt his hand tighten around mine, his fingers finding warmth behind my own. 

On instinct, I pulled him backwards and the both of us fell on the pavement without a scratch. I got back up on my feet and pulled on his hand, bringing him to a standing position, before running into the city with him.

“Why are we running?” He asked next to me, his voice significantly lighter.

“Because it’s pouring!” I laughed. 

I was out of breath within minutes but David kept on running, evidentially in a much better shape that I was. As we neared the city center, we came to a stop when I saw the time on a pharmacy’s logo: It was two in the morning and I had an oral exam at eight. I was hesitating but then I saw David Budd, in the middle of the street looking completely lost and I knew I couldn’t just leave him like that. 

“Let’s hail a cab.” I suggested. 

The car stopped in front of my building, and David and I stepped out of the vehicle, him still holding my hand like a lost puppy. I brought him up to my messy flat, having neglected the house chores during the exam period but he didn’t say anything. 

“Alright, I have cookies, Whisky and a half finished Red Bull.” I announced cheerfully as I walked out of the kitchen and joined him in the main room. 

“Do you want to talk it out?” I asked, not sure if it would work but it was worth a try. However, there was nothing Whisky couldn’t help. In no time, it felt as if I knew enough about him to write his biography: Vicky was nurse, they met when they were both 23. He got injured during training, fracturing his foot and Vicky was one of the ER nurses on duty that day. One year later, they got married. One year after that, Ella Budd was born and soon came Charlie, and they were a truly happy family for a while.   
And then it happened, Dave was sent to the Helmand Province in Afghanistan. And he never really came back. 

“I knew things were off,” he explained, taking another sip of Whisky. As much as I was interested in his story, sometimes I couldn’t help but to just focus on his voice and nothing else. “Ever since I came back from war, Vicky never again said she loved me. Flinched every time she saw my body covered in scars. And the kids, it was as if they didn’t know me and I didn’t know them.”

The both of us finished our drinks, and David poured the rest of the bottle into our glasses. I didn’t know what to respond to that. I was no psychologist, hell, I even went to a psychiatrist weekly myself. And more than that, I knew that whatever people said, it never healed the wound, it just covered it with a new bandage.   
“Indeed, that sucks.” I admitted after the room had been silent for a while. Dave, laughed hard and it was a very pleasant sound, even quite sexual. 

And then his face changed, the whole mood did, and it felt like the TV was no longer running in the background. I was still sitting on the coffee table when he leaned forward, not leaving the couch, but getting close enough to kiss me. And then he did, once, tentatively before stopping, as if gauging my reaction. 

I set my empty glass down next to me on the coffee table and kissed him back. Pushing him backwards against the couch before straddling him. His heart was beating fast, and so was mine. My hands were now on the nape of his neck, trying desperately to get ahold of his short hair as kissing was no longer enough. His hands were under my shirt, and they felt warm now, as they got dangerously close to my bra. Without a thought, I pulled away from him a few inches, to take it off and Dave’s attention immediately went to my now partially revealed breasts. But I wanted more, and if the pressure I felt between my legs was anything to go by, so did he.   
Cheekily, I whispered against his ear: “David Budd, could I interest you in some sex with me?” I felt silly, but it did appear to work because suddenly I was in his arms as he walked us to my bed. 

It turned out, the Scottish accent wasn’t the only good part about him, I thought to myself. Our chests were glued together with sweat, the both of us still breathing with difficulty after our intense activities. 

After a while, I felt his body go limp against mine. He must have fallen asleep after the exhausting night and was now lightly snoring. I wanted to do the same, but daring a quick look at my alarm clock, I realized it was best if I started getting ready to go to my examination. 

I softly moved away from him, trying not to wake him up and putting a pillow in the spot where my body had been laying moments before. 

After I had finished showering and getting dressed, I realized that he was still fast asleep. Trying to be kind one last time, I set up the alarm next to my bed to ring at ten and decided to leave him a note. 

“Next time you want to jump off a bridge, have sex with someone instead.”

 

\--------------------------------

Author's note: I'd be very thankful if you could let me know what you think. Also, English is not my first language so there are probably many mistakes.


	2. Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

6 months later 

Don’t get me wrong, I was happy for this internship opportunity and never in a million years did I expect I would actually land it. But here I was, realizing that waking up this early every day wasn’t for me.   
I was already on my desk when I looked through the window and saw Julia’s car pull up. Kim was already waiting for her, but she wasn’t alone, there was a man next to her. Oh well, none of my business. 

As soon as the elevator landed on my floor, I heard Chanel annoying’s voice and I simply knew that she had already managed to get Julia in a bad mood before she could even reach her office. 

But they weren’t alone in the elevator. “Shit!”, I muttered under my breath when I recognized the guy from the bridge. I didn’t think he had already seen me, so as long as he never did, things wouldn’t get awkward. 

Suddenly there was a knock on my door, it was Susan, Julia’s secretary. “Hello Alma, she wants to speak with you now but let me warn you, she’s in a bad mood.”

I sighed before getting up. Not because I was scared of Julia, she was actually really kind to me, but I realized I would need to walk past him to get to her office. 

I knew he wasn’t staring directly at me, but I knew he saw me. And for some reason, I was worried I would trip and fall in front of him, which luckily didn’t happen. 

I knocked on her glass door twice, between letting myself in. “Good morning, ma’am.”

“Good morning, Alma,” she greeted me without bothering to look up from her computer, “take a seat.”

“Considering your abilities with European law, I was wondering if you could draft up the consequences in terms of State responsibility if the RIPA-18 were to violate the ECHR and EU law?” 

“Sure thing ma’am,” I nodded. 

“You know you can call me Julia when it’s just the two of us.”

I left her office as I could when I realized Budd’s (that was his name!) attention was currently being directed at the western side of the room. I walked hurriedly past him, in the direction of the break room. 

I relaxed when I entered the empty room and couldn’t hear steps behind me. Feeling lighter, I went to the coffee machine to get myself a drink. 

“What are you doing here, Alma?” His Scottish accent filled the room and almost spilled the hot drink on my dress. 

“I like to come here when no one else is taking their break because I don’t want to know I drink hot chocolate.” I replied before turning around to face him. Damn, he did look great when he wasn’t going through some shit! “The question is, what are you doing here?”

Budd was still standing next to the door, seemingly confused at my answer. “I’m the Home Secretary’s PPO. But why are you here, in the building?”

“Oh, as a part of my LLM I have to do an internship in the area of diplomatic relations and politics.” The room went silent again which made me exceptionally uncomfortable. “Good luck on your new position! Happy to see things are working out better for you,” I said in high debit, trying to leave the room before things became even more awkward. 

Budd grabbed my arm just as I was leaving. He was definitely too close and I could feel his breath on my skin, and I couldn’t decide whether the fact that this bothered me was good or bad. “Thank you for being so kind to me back in April, Alma. I won’t forget that.” He spoke before nodding. I didn’t like the fact that hearing say my name got me feeling warm but his hand was still on my arm and I couldn’t escape. 

“No problem, mate.” I spoke way too cheerfully for the situation and looking up, I noticed that his blue eyes were fixed on me, on my face, and yet he seemed so far away. “Have a nice day!” I said loudly before pulling my arm from him, and disappearing through the door. 

Although the rest of day went by calmly and the task I had been given wasn’t too difficult but still interesting, I could shake off the uneasiness off me. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again after that night, and especially not here, in the Home Office.   
But that isn’t what made me uneasy, it was knowing that I would be unbothered in this situation if I didn’t care about him at all. 

I stopped for takeaway on my way home and when I arrived on my floor, James was sleeping in front of the door. 

“What are you doing here, James?” I asked with confusion before opening the door and letting us in. I let him make himself at home and I dressed down into something more comfortable.

“It’s Wednesday. We always meet on Wednesday and I brought food!” Oh fuck, that’s right, I completely forgot. 

“Sorry I forgot. I’m just really tired these days,” I explained now looking at both takeaway bags on the coffee table. “It just means we’ll have more food,” I mentioned lightly, trying to shrug it off, sitting down on the sofa when James arrived from the kitchen with two glasses. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” James offered. He sat down on the couch next to me and I turned on the TV to watch a show on Netflix. 

“James, we’re sexbuddies. We eat takeout, we watch Netflix, we fuck but we certainly do not talk about our worries,” I said, repeated the rules that had been in place from the very beginning and that we knew by hard now. And yet next to me, James seemed a bit disappointed as a he took the first bite of food. 

James left around midnight, earlier than usual but it suited me perfectly: I wanted to get a good night’s sleep before tomorrow. 

\-----

Julia and I were being driven to the BBC studios, Budd and the driver were in the front. Julia was going over the bullet points before the interview, but I couldn’t focus on anything. First, because the moment I read in a moving car, I get sick. Second, because a few seconds ago I had spotted Budd staring at me through the front mirror and for some reason, it made me happy. 

“Alma,” Julia said after a minute, bringing me back from my thoughts. She was pointing at some lines on the paper sheet in front of her, namely the ones with statistics about how RIPA-18 would improve homeland security. “Remind me to speak with Rob about this without going on air, I think these are wrong.” 

“I will, ma’am.”

We arrived at the studios and as usual, McDonald was already there. 

“Ma’am, I wanted to remind of you going over the number with McDonald again.” I spoke before taking of my glasses to rub my eyes and sitting down on one of the sofas. As usual, Budd was still standing which just made me realize I could never pull this off. 

“Ah yes, thank you Alma.” Rob and her were now in the deep discussion and I texted Chanel to know where she was. Just like always, she was late. Then I directed my attention to Budd. From I was sitting, I could see part of his back which reminded my that Budd’s butt was really something to be noticed. 

Suddenly, Chanel came walking in, hurriedly, with coffees in her hands. Just as she was handing one to Julia, she tripped and spilled it on her blouse. I rolled my eyes. Chanel. 

Expectedly, Julia became mad and then Rob became mad when Chanel didn’t offer to trade her blouse with Julia. Daring a look sideways, I noticed Budd was becoming increasingly nervous and the noise resulting from the situation was rendering me nervous as well.

Sighing, I walked up to them. “Ma’am, please take my dress. It won’t be a perfect fit but it’s still better than nothing.” I wasn’t sure she would accept, I had never even seen Julia in a dress. 

“Thank you, Alma, that’s very nice.” Without thinking, I unzipped my dress before taking it off and handing it to Julia. And then as the cold air hit my skin, did I realize that I was standing in the middle of the room dressed in nothing more than a bra, panties and stockings. 

Making things even more awkward, Budd approached me from behind and put his blazer on my shoulders, his fingers brushing my naked skin. 

We were now all standing silently on a badly shaped circle. Chanel was looking at me with such hate, I wondered if I was in her mean book. 

“PS Budd,” Julia spoke, her voice calmer than I would have expected, “bring Alma to the car, I know she forgot her long coat in there.” Without anything else, she left us to go do her interview.

“Yes, ma’am.” David replied. 

The walk through the long corridor to the elevator was bizarre. First, Budd’s smell enveloped me and that felt quite arousing. Second, everyone we passed stared at me weirdly which made put his arm around my shoulders. Third, did he just call Julia “mom”? Was she his mom?

“It’s alright, love.” He whispered so low against my ear that I couldn’t be sure I heard the last word right. 

Inside the small space of the elevator, our bodies were almost touching and I didn’t need to look at him to know he was looking at me. “So, why did you call her mom?”

“What?” He asked, only after a few seconds, which only proved that he had been distracted and which now had me feeling smug. “I didn’t call her mom, I called her ma’am.”

“Oh yes, that’s more logical. Sorry, I just got confused in there for a moment,” I admitted before laughing and my jiggling breasts caught Budd’s attention. He was still looking at them when the elevator stopped with an irritating ping and Budd cleared his throat. 

Downstairs, Budd grabbed my coat from the car and handed it to me, just as I return his. As I was now more decently dressed, Budd seemed to become somewhat normal again. Still not chatty, but I suppose he only became so after a few drinks. 

“Thank you for your blazer. That was very nice,” I mentioned, breaking the silence. He was still struggling with readjusting the wires of the earpiece around the collar. “Here, let me help you.” He didn’t reply but still down in front of me so I could untangle the cables. Each time my fingers touched his skin, he shivered. 

Back upstairs, we listened to Julia’s interview. Next to me, I noticed Budd’s jaw tightening as she mentioned war on the Middle East. And then I remembered: Helmand, Afghanistan. Without a thought, I grabbed Budd’s left hand and gave it a small squeeze. Surprisingly, he didn’t pull it away during the entire interview. If anything, he even tightened his hand around mine when Julia announced that she and the UK wouldn’t apologize for the past. 

And for the rest of that day, Budd became even less chatty than usual.

\-----

The next day, I almost fell asleep on my desk. The previous night had been unrestful. First, I got woken up by a text from James while I was having a very nice dream about myself, Budd, and some Netflix and Chill. Then, as I went to sleep to try and continue it, I ended up having a nightmare instead: Me, at war in Afghanistan. 

However, my day seemed to be improving: I finished up the report on the risks of RIPA-18 on a European level and Julia told me Chanel would be fired. However, I didn’t expect her to make such a tantrum they had to call Budd upstairs while he was on his break. 

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, I could see relief wash over his face as he realized that there was no real threat, just a spoiled brat acting like a spoiled brat, and making even more noise than a real Dyson. 

But I also noticed that Budd wasn’t okay. His hands were shaking and his neck was gleaming with cold sweat. PTSD, I realized. 

Later that afternoon, I accompanied Julia and Rob to the House of Commons. As Julia was in a heated discussion with her ex-husband, Roger Penhaligon, I walked up to Budd. 

“I saw what happened this morning,” I whispered, standing just next to him so nobody would listen in on us. “I’m no professional, but if you want to talk, I’m here. PTSD can be treated.”

Instead of thanking me for my offer, Budd’s jaw tightened and it was as if he was trying not to yell at me. “Funny thing you would say that, knowing what book you have next to your bed,” he whispered sharply, and the words stung. 

It took me a while to realize what he was talking about. It was the thesis I was working on about jus in bello, jus ad bellum, which simply meant the law of war. And although it hurt, I could understand where it was coming from.

With that, he stopped talking to me. 

\--------------

So here's chapter 1. Please let know your opinions on it.


	3. Chapter Two

School was going well. My thesis adviser was pleased with my job so far and I had had more time to see my friends that in the past few months. The only negative aspect was that David Budd still wasn’t speaking to me. It’s not that he said much otherwise, but now he wouldn’t even return my hellos in the morning and the goodbyes in the evenings. And I was mad with myself about caring. 

We were now in the car, heading back to the Homeland HQ after a meeting Julia had invited me to attend. I desperately tried to catch his gaze in the mirror but he never looked at my side. Then, his phone started ringing. After a while, Julia told him to just pick up before it drove us all up the walls. 

I wasn’t usually one to snoop around, but I tried paying attention to the conversation. It wasn’t a happy one, something about his son’s school, Heath Bank and the boy not being admitted to a specialized school. The woman on the other side of the line was pretty much yelling at him before he called her “love” and hung up. Vicky.  
Thinking back all those months ago, I remembered him telling me about being separated from his wife. Seems like things had really improved for them. 

“Ma’am, could I talk with you for a second?” I asked Julia when we arrived at our floor and she replied with a quick nod. 

“So, what did you wish to talk to me about Alma?” She wondered, closing the door to her office. “Are you having difficulties finding time for your thesis?”

“No, Julia, that’s working out well, actually,” I quickly replied, taking a seat in front of her. “I was just wondering if you could perhaps help out Sergeant Budd? His son, Charlie, is attending Heath Bank but he’d be better off in a special needs school.”

She looked up at me, confused and curious at the same time. “Why do you care about PS Budd? Do you know each other?” She asked, playing with a pencil. 

“No, not really. We’ve sometimes shared a cup of tea during our breaks these past few days. Nothing more,” I explained, lying through my teeth about the tea and the chatting, but Julia seemed convinced as she nodded. 

“Alright, Alma, I’ll see what I can do,” she agreed and I took it as a cue to get up. “Take my personal advice, Alma, never let yourself depend on a man.”

“Thank you! And rest assured, it’s not like, Julia,” I reassured her, making my way to door.  
It was exactly like that. 

I walked back to my desk and started working on the mission I had been assigned: Middle Eastern countries were taking the RIPA-18 personally, and the Homeland Office figured a Memorandum of Understanding was perhaps the way to go.  
After a while, I let my gaze wander around. First on Budd, who was standing by the wall, still as always. And then at the guy from Security Services, Stephen something, who entered Julia’s office without knocking. Something was off. 

I didn’t find out until later that there had been an attack near the Heath Bank Primary School. Budd had left early with Julia, so I didn’t get to talk to him after I’d received the information. 

After work that evening, I purposefully took the wrong tub line. I didn’t want to go home. I felt scared, and mad, and helpless. But most of all, I didn’t know why I kept thinking of Budd and his kids, when police officers literally died in the attack today. 

Getting out of the tub, I got two Subway sandwiches before making my way to a building I rarely ever went to. 

Disappointed at my own behavior, I nevertheless knocked on the door. Seconds later, James answered. “It’s not Wednesday, but I could do with some extra fucking,” I explained, being blatantly honest. 

\-----

Julia now had daily meetings with Anne Sampson, Mike Travis and Stephen Weirdname. I wasn’t allowed to attend, of course, but I knew they were talking about a possible connection between the 1/10 train attack and the Heath Bank School bomb.  
Looking at them through the glass walls, I finally realized something. Dave was the officer from the 1/10. That was the only possible explanation for the targeting of that particular school. 

It also meant that the person who had manufactured the bomb for the train was the same one as the for the school. Which only left two options: Either the husband had hidden the bombs somewhere for his friends to use, or the person who did them was still at large. 

I desperately wanted to talk with Budd but Julia told me he had been assigned to desk duty for the time being. I didn’t even know what I’d say, but I needed to say something. Maybe something along the lines of “yes, I was a hypocrite, holding your hand during the interview and yet specializing in the law of war, sorry”. Most of all, I just wanted to know if he was okay. 

Today was Wednesday, which meant that not only would I get free dinner but also James’ company. I knew he liked me, and I knew I could learn to like him too. After all, we both studied law and he was now a public defender, so we did have some stuff in common. That ought to be enough. 

\----

“I think we should watch ‘Mindhunter’,” James suggested browsing over my Netflix library as I laid out the Chinese food containers in front of us. 

“Maybe we could try something more lighthearted? I’m done with murder,” I whispered the last part but I knew he’d heard it, considering how close we were sitting. “You know, put on ‘Mindhunter’, it’s not like we’re really going to pay attention,” I added flirtingly. 

“No ma’am, your wishes are my orders,” James laughed, putting on season 3 of ‘The good place’. 

Thirty minutes later, the show was long forgotten and James and I were making out on the sofa. Maybe it was the number of ex-girlfriends he has had, but he knew just where to kiss me. Besides, he was the most unproblematic person I knew. I looked down at him while he was kissing my chest and I tried to make myself fall in love with him. Before I could see if that worked, there was a knock on the door and we both stopped abruptly. 

“Are you expecting someone?” James asked, panting and passing me my shirt. 

“Not really,” I admitted. 

I made sure to do at least the first couple of buttons of my shirt before opening the door. It was Budd. Dave, I mean.

“Good evening, Alma.” His Scottish accent lighthearted before his eyebrows crunched up when he saw my wild hair and half-buttoned shirt. 

“Oh hey, David,” I greeted him, frankly embarrassed at the situation. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Suddenly, I felt James’ hand on my waist. “Hello David, I’m James, Alma’s friend,” he introduced himself, stretching out the last word. He then extended his hand which David took only hesitantly. 

“Aye, cheers James,” David exclaimed, shaking James’ hand for much longer than was necessary.  
I  
cleared my throat, finally regaining their attention. “Why don’t you come on in, David? James was just leaving.” James seemed confused but at my insisting glare, he grabbed his coat nonetheless. 

“You owe me another non-Wednesday,” he whispered sneakily into my ear before disappearing. 

I led James to the living room and tried to clean up the mess from dinner. David looked at the couch hesitantly before taking a seat. “So, how did you meet James?”

“Oh,” I blurted out, quite flushed, as I looked for the draft of my thesis. “He did his Erasmus semester in my university in Portugal and we hooked up,” I went on without thinking, finally sliding the document under the bed and realized what I’d just said. “Sorry, that was too much information,” I said sheepishly, stating the obvious. David didn’t reply. 

“So, hum, what are you doing here?” I asked after a while, sitting down on the arm of the sofa where all my clothes were lying in a mess. 

David closed his eyes tightly before rubbing his temple. “I wanted to thank you.”

“On what grounds?” I came back from the kitchen with two glasses of soda, handing him one. 

“I know it was you who got the Home Office Secretary to put in a good word about Charlie.” Dave was smiling now, a rare sight on him. 

“It was my way of apologizing for being a hypocrite,” I admitted and Dave nodded slightly, implicitly accepting my excuses. “How is your family coping?”

“They’re under some stress but at least now I know they’re in the Safe House, so that good.” He explained before an awkward silence invaded my flat again. “Actually, I should be heading back, it’s late.”

I accompanied him to the door, somewhat disappointed at having him leave so soon. “Good night, Alma,” he whispered before bending down and kissing my cheek. 

\-----

The next few days were better. Dave was no longer pissed at me and I got to see him every day. He even smiled a little each time our eyes met. 

But what really held my attention was seeing Stephen come to meet Julia so often, one-on-one. Not even Mike Travis was allowed in the office. I knew it was none of my business, but considering it was the Home Office, I was pretty sure they weren’t talking about Hillary not wanting to vaccinate her child. This was something important, something big. 

I was still making up a dozen of theories in my head, when Julia knocked on my door. 

“Yes?” I replied, getting up quickly. 

“This is usually a no-go for interns and you won’t be able to assist most of time, but do you want to join me for the meeting at 10 Downing Street?” She offered, a small grin on her face knowing I’d certainly accept. 

I was very surprised she’d offer something like that, but there was no way I’d refuse. “Of course, Ma’am, thank you for the offer. Let me grab my coat.”

The drive was silent, as it mostly was but this time I felt comfortable. Journalists shouted questions at Julia as we made our way inside the house and I was disappointed not to spot Larry the cat. 

As predicted, I only got to be present during the first fifteen minutes where the cabinet didn’t talk about anything truly important or confidential. Afterwards, the staff led me to the room next door, the anti-chamber they called it, which turned out to be library. And there was Larry! 

“Come here boy,” I called him over cheerfully, tapping on my thighs so he would come to me.

\-----

“You’re full of cat hair,” Julia commented when we were back in the car. “I take it, you found Larry?” She chuckled. 

“Yes, Chief Mouser was of very good company, indeed,” I spoke in a very posh manner and everyone laughed. It then transitioned into Julia talking about Mia, the cat she used to have while she was college. 

Suddenly, there was a loud noise and shards of glass flew everywhere. Before I could make out what was happening, more shots flew in and Terry was hit in the head. “Down, down!”, Dave shouted. Julia screamed loudly. 

I took off my belt and tried to grab her hands but she was just shaking so much. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Dave grabbing the steering wheel, he was tetanized. I quickly scanned him over, his blood covered silhouette freaking me out. He wasn’t injured, thank God. “It’s okay, Ma’am,” Dave said, trying to reassure Julia.

Dave crashed the car and my the back of my head hit the car’s door with a loud thump. My vision became somewhat dizzy but then Dave’s hand searched for mine, squeezed it tight and looked at me with worry in his eyes. “Alma, it’s okay!” He shouted over the bullets before speaking unintelligibly on the radio. “The bullets can pierce through the windows, but they can’t go through the armored metal!” He reassured the both of us before continuing stressfully speaking on the radio, trying to reassure us at the same time. 

“Two minutes!”, he announced before they started shooting at us again. The shots were too loud, the noise was intolerable. I searched the pockets of my coat with trembling hands, trying to find my noise-cancelling headphones in order not to panic but before I could, Dave opened his door and exited the car. 

“Fuck!”, I shouted, not able to control my feelings before talking. My loud shout seemed to scare Julia even further. “Julia, everything is under control, okay? Less than two minutes,” I repeated Dave’s information, whispering softly, hoping she would hear me through all the commotion. I wanted to hold her hand, but then I noticed mine were covered in blood, my blood. It was coming from my ears. Shit, not again. 

Without a warning, Dave opened the driver’s door and pulled out Terry’s body. “Are you fine, Alma?” He asked worriedly, turning on the engine and putting it on reverse. Bullets kept hitting the car’s roof. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” I questioned but David didn’t answer, instead the car went to a stop in front of the Pascoe House. 

“He won’t have a clear sight here,” Dave explained before grabbing a machine gun out of nowhere. “You’ll be fine,” he said one last time and then exited the car and went straight inside the building. I tried opening my door, go after him but my blood covered hands couldn’t grab the handle. And then I remembered that the backdoors were always locked. Shit!

Julia was sobbing and shaking more each time she noticed all the blood on her white suit. I wanted to help her, help him but the pain in my ears was too much. Too much noise again, it felt like I could hear everything. And then I heard another gunshot. Please, let it not be him. 

A few minutes after that, the medics arrived but I didn’t see Dave again. “Miss, we’re taking you to the hospital.” A kind woman who had just excited the ambulance was tending to me, reassuring me but my mind was elsewhere. 

“Where’s Dave?” I asked, or rather screeched as she tried to touch me. I pulled away from her, looking everywhere around me, trying to find him. 

“Who’s that?” She wondered, getting somewhat impatient now as she forcefully dragged me inside the ambulance. 

“Julia’s bodyguard, PS Budd,” I replied, my voice shaking as the doors closed in on us and the ambulance started moving. 

“Miss, you have ruptured eardrums. I’m Georgie Garer, and we’re going to take care of you,” she promised as if my true worry was the blood still oozing out of my ears. 

As soon as we arrived at the hospital, an otorhinolaryngologist started tending to my ears. It hurt, but not as much as the first time it happened. 

“Is this the first time you’ve had ruptured eardrums,” he asked, cleaning out the rest of the blood with cotton swabs. 

“No, it’s third time, or fourth, I can’t remember,” I replied, not really focusing on the current situation. “Look, I know to handle this, so if you could just patch me up real quick and let me go home, that would be perfect.”

The old man chuckled but didn’t stop what he was doing. “You didn’t lose your hearing, so that’s good news. But you did lose quite a lot of blood so you will need a transfusion, miss,” he informed me. 

\-----

I was alone in my hospital room and the blood bag was practically empty now. I wanted to grab my phone but they had placed my bag on the chair against the wall and I couldn’t reach it. Careful not to pull out any needles, I slid off the bed and tried finding balance on my feet, keeping one hand on the bed just in case. 

Just as I was looking for my phone inside my messy bag, someone knocked on the door. I didn’t bother turning around even though I knew I flashing them my butt through the hospital gown. “If you’re a nurse, I’m fine, okay. I just wanted to get my phone and organize myself a ride home.”

“Alma, it’s me,” Dave’s Scottish accent reached my ears and it didn’t cause any pain, quite the opposite. 

“Dave, are you okay?” I entreated, quickly turning on myself so I could see him, and almost ripping one of the needles in the process. He seemed fine, he was now wearing a fresh suit and apart from a few cuts here and there, he was unblemished. But I knew the worst pains weren’t physical. 

I finally dared looking at his face and he seemed in agony as he stared at me in my hospital gown. I slowly made my way over to him until I was just a few inches away from his body, and then I hugged him. “Thank you,” I whimpered, relieved at finally seeing him again.

To my dismay, he didn’t hug me back. Instead, he cleared his throat and carefully pushed me away from him. “The Police now think you’re a possible target and the Home Office Secretary asked for me to be assigned to you, for the time being.” His voice was professional and cold, every ounce of our growing friendship disappearing into thin air. 

“How is she?” I asked, sitting back down on the bed as I became dizzy again. 

“She was brought to a hotel,” Dave said, still by the door. “That’s where I’m taking you now.”

After this minimalistic exchange, David called for nurse to take off my needles and they let me leave with him after I signed my discharge papers. As we were exiting the floor, a nurse stopped us and addressed Dave: “You are not to leave her alone for the next couple of days, especially at night. In case there’s any more blood, you need to bring her to us.” The woman said hurriedly, but Dave just nodded. 

Now in the car, Dave turned on the heat. He’d probably noticed that I was still shaking a little. “I’m not going to the hotel,” I chirped in a small, out of the blue, not looking at him. 

“What?” He blurted out with agitation as he pulled out of the parking place. His exterior appeared calm, but I knew that inside he was in a turmoil. 

“I want to sleep in my own bed, tonight,” I explained softly. I didn’t want to piss him off, but I needed to find myself in a familiar place. “Just tonight, David. Please.”

Without bothering to reply to my request. David spoke on the radio. “Seven-Nine. Change of plans. Flapper homebound.” I couldn’t hear what the person said but David did take the road leading to my place. “This is just for tonight, Alma,” he spoke seriously, like warning me. “Tomorrow night, I want you in the hotel.” 

\-----

We arrived at my flat which thankfully was less messy than usually. David was carrying a small duffel bag, most likely with fresh clothes and personal items since he’d expected to sleep in the hotel where Julia was. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” I announced the very second he closed the door behind ourselves. “You go and make yourself at home.”

I walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind myself. Looking in the mirror, I was happy to notice I wasn’t hurt, at least not much. Apart from a large bruise on my arm and shoulder from when our car crashed into the other one, and the ears, obviously, I was as good as new. My hair was a mess though, it was caked with so much blood it looked auburn rather than usual cool brown. 

I stepped into the shower and let the water wash away the stress. I realized I’d have to call my parents, let them know I was fine, but I decided I’d just do it tomorrow.  
I stepped out of the bathroom dressed in nothing more than a towel, since I’d forgotten to take my night clothes with me. Entering the main room, I saw David silently lying on the couch in a t-shirt and black boxers, completely ignoring me. 

“Oh, come on, David,” I sighed, rather impatient and disappointed at this. “You saved my life today, I’m not going to make you sleep on an old, small couch. Just hop on the bed,” I ordered, rummaging through some drawers to find some clean underwear. He didn’t budge. 

I made my way back to the bathroom again, this time not looking at him because I couldn’t handle how good he looked dressed like that. “If you’re not in the bed when I come out, I’ll be pissed,” I warned, knowing full well that I had no authority to order him around. 

To my surprise, considering I hadn’t heard any footsteps, Dave was lying on the edge of the bed when I returned. Sighing, I entered through the other side, taking my contraceptive pill with some water. 

“Shit, I forgot to ask,” I spoke out loud without realizing. “Do you want to eat or drink something?” David didn’t answer, and I lied down next to him in complete silence. “Are you okay?” The moment I asked that, I knew I had messed up. 

“No, love, I’m not okay,” he yelled and my ears hurt. “You almost got killed today, under my watch!” He was aggravated, now pulling the bed covers away from him, in an attempt to get up. Without thinking, I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back to bed, pinning him down with my hands and straddled him, trying to ignore the ambiguity of the situation. 

“But I did not,” I stated with authority, out of breath for some reason. “I’m okay, David,” I now whispered reassuringly as he slowly calmed down. “My eardrums rupture every once in a while. Last time it was at a concert. I’m okay, David.” As I tried to disentangle myself from him, David pulled himself up and kissed me, out of nowhere. Our crotches rubbed together in this new position and we both let out an involuntary moan. Before I had time to process what was happening, Dave was sliding the strap of my sports bra off my shoulder, my skin erupting in goosebumps beneath his touch. 

He then softly kissed the bruise on my shoulder, simultaneously moving his hips beneath mine. Running on instinct, I removed his lips from my body and brought my tongue to his jaw, slowly licking it in a straight line until I reached his earlobe to nibble on it. The groan which came deep from within his chest enticed my hands to wander down his t-shirt before forcefully taking it off him. He did the same thing with my bra before rolling us around so that I was now captive beneath his body. 

Without saying anything, we removed the last pieces of clothes and our bodies connected with each other. My hands brushed the scars on his back and he shivered, stopping for a moment. I didn’t, I couldn’t let him know how much it pained me to feel those crevasses on his skin, this was a conversation for some other time. I forced myself to continue and kissed him harder than before, prompting him to continue. 

It felt even better than all these months ago. Perhaps it was because I now knew him better, because I knew he had put his life on the line to save mine or because the both of us could have died today. Reaching our peaks, I was aware I’d get some dirty looks from our neighbors later but I didn’t have the heart to care. 

Still panting, Dave lied now next to me, his head resting on my naked breasts. “Thank you, love,” he whispered. I wanted to ask what for but decided against it and just let those words hang in the air. Instead, I placed a peck on his forehead and we called it a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, please review. I'll admit I had a difficult time writing the Thornton Circus shooting.


	4. Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

I woke up a few hours later with pain on my right ear from having slept on it for so long. Blindly, I reached for my bedtable trying to find some Paracetamol or Ibuprofen, but then I felt Dave starting to steer next to me. He wasn’t waking up from a peaceful slumber, he was tossing and turning, having a nightmare. 

Silently, I took the first pill I could find and turned to him. His face was contorted, tears were coming from his closed eyes. I was hesitating, not knowing whether I should just let him sleep it off or wake him up. But then his silent sobbing turned into painful howling. I couldn’t hear him like this and do no nothing. 

Against the better judgment I should have acted upon, my hands went to his shoulder, shaking them softly, and when that didn’t work, stronger. He didn’t wake up. Panicking, I now went to straddle him, shaking his body with all my strength. He finally woke up, suddenly opening his blue eyes and my hands left his shoulders to go cup his face. But his eyes were empty, they weren’t seeing me. 

And then abruptly, he leaned forward, his right hand moving to my throat, encircling it, suffocating me. 

“Dave!” I screamed as loud as the little air I had would allow me. I tried to remove his hands but he was too strong and I was too weak. Dizziness was taking me over again, and tears started sliding down my eyes. He wasn’t going to stop. In my last moments of lucidity, I grabbed a law book from my nightstand and hit him on the head with it. 

Immediately, the pressure around my neck lessened and I was able to breathe again, even though it burned. Dave’s eyes finally focused again on his surroundings and then he saw me holding my bruised throat. Before I could process what was happening, he got up without a warning and I fell to my side of the bed. He walked to the metal pillar between the windows and punched it, blood droplets spattered everywhere. And then he grabbed the same pillar with all the strength he had, leaning his forehead against the cold metal and started sobbing. 

Now that the pain on my neck was dissipating, I got up and walked up to him, comfortingly putting my arm around his shoulders but he pulled away from my touch. “It’s okay, David. I’m fine, you’re fine,” I whispered, not showing how much him pulling away from me hurt. 

“We should get ready to leave,” he spoke after a few seconds, emotionlessly. 

Forty- five minutes later, David was driving us to the Blackwood Hotel. He had ordered me to pack the essentials only and I tried to respect that advice to the best of my abilities. After dropping of our bags at the hotel, he drove me to the Homeland HQ.

“You’re not coming in?” I questioned when I didn’t see him turn off the engine. 

“No,” he replied drily, looking straight forward. “I’ll pick you up in the evening.”

Some other Police officer escorted me to the building when I left the car. “Flapper coming in,” the man said on the radio. I didn’t know why they thought I needed a bodyguard or even needed to leave my flat and go to a hotel instead. It was just me, Alma Guinness who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Now inside the building, I listened as Julia gave a speech to the media, Mike looking at her with such disdain I could almost smell it. Everyone I passed asked me if I was okay. 

“Alma?” Susan asked, opening the door to my office. “The Secretary wants to see you now.”  
I nodded. I had been hoping to meet her all day but I didn’t want to disturb.

“Hello, Julia,” I greeted her as I entered her office. “How are you doing today?”

“Better,” she replied, nodding forcefully as if shaking off yesterday’s memories. “How are you faring? Did you sleep well?” Julia asked, full of concern. 

“Yes, I’m fine. I just need to stay away from loud noises for a while,” I answered, pointing at my partly covered ears. “Can I just ask you something?” I said, not waiting for a reply before continuing. “Why do I need a PPO and to stay at your hotel?”

Julia leaned back on her chair, rubbing her temples. “The press has been posting lots of photos of us together, talking and laughing. After the attack you were in, intelligence officers can’t exclude the possibility that you’ve become a target yourself. You know, hurting you to get back at me,” she explained. “I’m sorry.” Julia said truthfully.

“But, I cannot live like this,” I protested forcefully. I wasn’t angry at her but at the whole situation. “I need to be free.”

“I know, Alma,” she agreed, twirling a pencil between her hands. “But I don’t want to take any risks.”

There was no point of arguing further, I sighed as I left the room. The rest of the day went by in a blur because of how distracted I was. I knew, I had no proof but still, I was sure yesterday had nothing to do with the two previous attacks. There wasn’t a bomb, just a shooter. This was unrelated. 

After work, two cars were there to pick us up. Julia and I now were to ride in separate cars, taking separate routes. David was silent the whole time expect for his quick words on the radio. At least, Mary the driver was chatty. 

Now in the hotel, I realized my room was between Julia’s and David’s, with an adjoining door to the latter. Julia’s new PPOs were staying in a room next to hers.   
David entered my bedroom, checking everything was safe before letting me in. “Have a good night, Miss,” Dave announced, closing the door behind himself and locking me in. 

As soon as I heard David had entered his room, I opened the adjoining door on my side. His side was already unlocked. He was taking off his blazer and pulling off the tie from his shirt collar.   
“How are you?” I asked sheepishly, making my presence known. 

“Not good,” he answered with earnest, without facing me as he took off his bulletproof vest which much weight a ton. Just when I wasn’t expecting a follow up, he spoke again. “You lied to me, love.”

“What?” I snapped in disbelief. “I never lied to you, David.” Now, I was truly offended at this accusation. A few years ago, I’d learned that life got simpler if you just were blatantly honest and I preferred things to be simple. 

“You aren’t just Alma Guinness,” David said accusingly, now approaching me. He was really intimidating when angry, towering over me as he held on to the door frame with such force his knuckles turned white. 

“I am, though,” I confirmed. Crossing my arms over my chest to somehow feel stronger myself. 

“No, you’re not,” Dave barked, moving away from me to go sit on his bed and take off his shoes. “You cannot be just someone when your mother’s a Portuguese aristocrat, your father’s an investor and your uncle’s the fucking UK Ambassador to Lebanon.” His face now turned towards me, his blue eyes piercing right through mine. “I thought you were one of us, but you’re one of them.”

At once, I knew what he meant but I still had never lied to him. So, what if my family members weren’t exactly nobodies?! It didn’t change who I was, but I certainly had bigger questions now. “Wait, who even told you about that?” I blustered. Was he spying on me?

“My boss and her boss,” he confessed, for some reason less agitated now. That meant I now knew what he was doing today: Meeting with Craddock and Sampson. 

“Look David,” I said softly, walking up to him until I was close enough to touch him. I placed my thumb on his chin and lifted his face so our gazes met. “I already was my parents’ daughter and my uncle’s niece when we first met. That doesn’t change who I am,” I spoke earnestly. “David, this is who I am: A twenty-two years-old female who’s little over five feet tall, who sometimes blurts out inappropriate things and who has a tendency to make things more awkward than they need to be.” Finally, Dave smiled and he looked much younger when he did that. 

“So, do you want to fuck or not?” I offered, unzipping my dress in front of him. 

Later in bed, as he was now sleeping next to me, I was suspicious. Why didn’t he mention this morning’s altercation? Why was he so eager to accept my apology which actually wasn’t even one? And why did he call me love while simultaneously accusing me of lying to him?

I lied on my side to look at him. David was so beautiful when he wasn’t frowning, but what if this was all an act? What are you hiding from me, David Budd?

\--------

“Good morning, love,” David whispered into my ear the next morning, carefully shaking me out of my slumber. 

Not wanting to be blinded by the daylight, I opened my eyes very slowly but noticed that David had entirely covered us with the bed sheets. “Morning,” I yawned, not really a morning person.

Dave was really talkative this morning. “Did you always want to be in politics?” He asked me, his face only a few inches away from mine. 

“No, I used to want to be a stay-at-home mom with no kids,” I recounted jokingly, not knowing if I could trust him. “And you? Did you always to be in the police?”

“Please, don’t laugh,” he pleaded and I nodded. “But I wanted to be a doctor.”

“I’m not laughing.” Why would I be? “Why didn’t you?” Somehow curiosity had gotten into me. Best to know everything about a potential enemy, especially now that he didn’t yet know that I was doubting him. He explained that he lacked the necessary connections to go to med school, so he joined the army instead. For ten fucking years, that’s long!

Sadly enough, I couldn’t stay in bed with him all day, trying to figure out what he was hiding from me. “I’m going to take a shower, love,” he whispered before kissing my forehead. “Be back soon.”

Just as he left into the bathroom, there was a knock on my door; It was an officer. Julia wanted to see me. I walked to over her room and saw her talking with Stephen. 

“Good morning, Alma,” she got up from her chair to greet me. “This is Stephen Hunter-Dunn, from Security Service,” Julia spoke, introducing me to the man facing her. “I wanted you to be present because you’re also concerned by what’s going on.”

Stephen talked us about how he also didn’t believe that the 24/10 shooting on Thornton Circus was related to the previous bombings. “I would even go as far as to say that the Police willingly withheld their intervention, leaving both of you alone,” he confided in a serious tone. Why didn’t he mention Dave and Terry? Were they not people as well? 

After that, I excused myself, knowing Julia had confidential matters to discuss with him. Entering my room again, I saw Dave scurrying off from the wall. Had he been spying? I decided to be smart and play oblivious.   
“Hello bodyguard,” I chuckled as if I hadn’t seen anything. 

A few minutes later, Dave left my room to exit through his door and hide the fact that he had been in my room all night. 

“Sleep well?” I asked, hinting at our night as he escorted me to the elevator. 

“Yes, miss. Very well,” he replied, as serious as he always was. 

\------

Again, my day went by in a blur because now I wasn’t just working on the RIPA-18 but also had access to the intelligence about the 24/10 shooting. Julia had given me the necessary clearance. 

All I could think about for the rest of the day was Stephen’s allusion in the morning, about the police, aka Sampson, purposefully delayed their invention and the way Mike had looked at Julia which such hate the other day. Was there a conspiracy against her I wasn’t privy to? Was Dave part of it? Did I almost die because of some stupid conspiracy which didn’t even involve me?

I waited until Kim was taking her break to take my own so that Dave couldn’t come into the break room with me. I didn’t know whether the man I slept with was on my side, and it freaked me out. Most of all, it freaked me out that I didn’t even know what my side was. Should I tell Julia?

Back at my desk, I noticed I had received a text from David. “That dress looks good on you, love. Though I prefer you without it.” It read and I looked up just to see he was staring at me. Could the enemy really be so dashing?

\------

“Want to order some room service?” Dave offered, entering my room through the connecting door. 

“Not tonight, sorry,” I apologized, changing into some green high heels. “I’m having dinner with some friends.”

Dave frowned. “You cannot leave this room, Alma.” Was he ordering me around? Was he even allowed to do that?

“But I am going to,” I stated, standing up to check my new outfit in the mirror. “In exactly five minutes, to be precise.”

He approached me from behind, hugging me before resting his chin on the top of my head. “I cannot let you do that, Alma,” he spoke softly, but with authority. 

“You can either stay here or come with me,” I insisted, “but I am going and that’s it.” I was sure that the conspiracy, if there was any, was against Julia, not me. The shooter was dead, I was safe. 

\-----

“Hello Alma,” Sara hollered at me as she saw us approaching the ‘Got beef?’ restaurant, hand in hand with Dave. 

“Hi Sara,” I greeted, kissing her cheeks before turning to Cedric and doing the same. “This is David, my friend,” I explained as I indicated at Dave next to me. 

We had barely sat down at our table when Sara pulled me to her over the table to whisper something. “When you said you were bringing someone, I thought it would be James.” She admitted, her brows furrowed. “Well, better luck with guessing next time,” I replied sassily. 

“Do you want to have some of your family’s Porto Wine?” Cedric asked, knowing full well that’s what I always ordered. 

Next to us Cedric and Dave were getting acquainted. “So, I’m a barrister at Allen & Overy, finance department, and Sara here is doing a PhD in Criminal law,” Cedric explained, before kissing Sara’s palm.

Dave wasn’t comfortable, in fact, he wasn’t even paying attention to Cedric but scanning the room with his eyes instead. Well, this explained why Dave had insisted so badly we take the table by the wall, at the far end of the restaurant, instead of the one which had been assigned to us. “David’s a Sergeant,” I replied for him, giving his thigh a small squeeze so he would focus on the present conversation. 

“Are you two guys seeing each other?” Sara asked without tact as she sipped her cocktail. Dave grew stiff next to me, and I knew he was uncomfortable. Why did he come with me in the first place?

“Well, we do see each other every day at work, so I guess you could put it that way,” I joked, hopefully taking that subject off the table for good. David seemed to be getting more at ease when the food and the wine arrived. He was now in deep conversation with Cedric about some football team, Manchester United, they both supported. For some reason, I was happy he was getting along with my friends. 

“You should come with me to a game sometime,” Cedric offered, obviously pleased at having finally found someone who shares his passion for that bloody team. “I have season’s tickets.” 

Feeling bold, I placed my hand on Dave’s knee before slowly starting to move it up. Nobody would see, we were both sitting with our backs to the wall, and the tablecloth was long. Dave gulped when I brazenly palped his crotch but he didn’t remove my hand, which I took as an invitation to continue and went on talking with Sara and Cedric. 

I was now unbuttoning Dave’s trousers and slipping my hand into his boxers when the conversation suddenly moved from France’s transition from the ISF to the IFI tax, to the Thornton Circus shooting without a warning.   
“I’m just so happy no one got hurt,” Sara admitted. I hadn’t told her that I was there and didn’t intend to. “Actually, the driver did but that’s not what I meant.” With those words, Dave immediately removed my hand from his erection and re-buttoned his trousers.   
Thanks Sara, that really killed the mood. 

As were now getting ready to leave, I noticed how much wine Dave had drunk so far and he even asked for a digestive. I didn’t drink that night although I usually did. For some reason, I was growing wary of everyone and everything. 

We then got up and left our table. Dave whispered into my ear, his hand on my butt which I thought was extremely inappropriate. “Don’t we have to pay the check?” He asked, but it was more like a slur. 

“No, Cedric’s parents own this place,” I explained as we left the restaurant and walked over to Sara’s and Cedric’s flat, with was almost next door, for some coffee. 

Instead of enjoying myself, all I could notice was how Dave wasn’t drinking coffee. 

“Look, Alma, I don’t believe Dave’s the kind of man you need,” Sara spoke with earnest concern but for the first time ever in our friendship, her words disgusted me. Was he not educated enough? Was he not rich enough, or rather, were his parents not rich enough? 

“You’re right, Sara,” I declared bitterly before grabbing my coat. “He is not the kind of man I need because I do not need any kind of men.”

“Come on, Dave, we’re leaving!”

Just as I expected it, he had had a few drinks too many and had trouble walking straight. “Let me drive,” I pleaded as we reached the car but he never handed me the keys. We hit a dumpster on our way back to the hotel, but nothing else, luckily enough. If anything, the drive seemed to sober him up since when we arrived at our floor, he seemed much more coherent and addressed the guards accurately. 

I started undressing immediately as I got into my room. It hadn’t expected this night to run so late and quite frankly, there was nothing I wanted more right now than sleep. Or maybe, some candy. 

Pulling the bedcovers back, I heard the adjoining door open and then I felt Dave’s hands on my body. He was entirely naked but for his boxers. “Sorry Dave, not in the mood tonight,” I yawned, removing his hands from my waist but he didn’t let me. 

“I am in the mood, love,” he slurred, pressing his body against mine so I could gauge just how in the mood he was. I sighed at his persistence.

“Just go take care of it in the shower and then come join me in bed if you want,” I breathed, annoyed at his insisting behavior. With some strength, I was able to remove his hands from my waist. Just as I thought I had finally freed myself, he got ahold of my shoulders and pulled me into bed with him. 

He was pinning me down, my face against the pillow, his hands holding mine prisoners. I tried to squirm away from him but it was a lost cause. “You can’t start me like that at the restaurant and then expect not to finish, love,” he slurred in his thick Scottish accent but all I sensed was the smell of alcohol in his breath. 

“I’m sorry Dave, but I’m exhausted and you’re drunk,” I said firmly, but he didn’t budge.

“So, I’m just some room service that you order in whenever you’re in the mood and discard when you’re not?!” Dave groaned aggressively. Was this true? Did my upbringing really make me consider people like him as a convenience like room service? 

In the end, I gave in and even enjoyed it. What the fuck was I going to do? Scream and make him lose his job? Sober Dave didn’t deserve that, at least not until I had proof he was working against us. Lesson learned, though: Do not let Dave drink. 

\------

The next morning, I woke up alone in bed. Keeping my eyes closed, I tried to improve my sense of hearing. Dave was softly entering my room from the adjoining door, still naked from last night. He was carrying some device; a stethoscope?   
Dave gave me a glance and I quickly closed my eyes before he could notice I wasn’t asleep. When I was certain he was no longer looking, I opened my eyes again. And there he was, with the stethoscope thing against the back of my wardrobe, finding the thinnest wall separating my room from Julia’s. Was this why he slept with me? Just so that he could spy in on her?   
I was hurt, but most of all angry at myself. I was indeed sleeping with the enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It's me again. I know some of you are reading this story and I'd be very thankful for some comments, especially since I'm finding a few scenes particularly difficult to write...


	5. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

I kept my eyes closed as he walked back into his room, completely oblivious to the fact that I had just caught him red-handed. I heard his front door open and close. Curiosity getting the best of me, I tiptoed to my door and partially opened it, making as little noise as possible so that no one would notice what was going on.   
I heard footsteps and then a conservation ensured, between David and some other man. I shut my eyes tightly, hoping that would help me hear better. Was that the man Dave had been spying in on just moments ago, in Julia’s room? I couldn’t make out everything, but Dave was insistent at finding out his name: Richard Longcross and I had no idea who that was. So, Dave was hiding things from me. So was Julia. And I wasn’t even sure I was in any of their sides. 

Still lost in my thoughts, I heard footsteps again, David was heading back to his room. “Shit,” I cursed under my breath, tiptoeing back to bed. I had just managed to lie down again when Dave entered my room and made his way to the bed. He put his cold hand on my cheek and I had to resist pulling back. His thumbs then started drawing circles on my skin and I had to fake waking up just now. 

“Morning Dave.” I fake yawned, stretching out my hands and making David grin in the process. 

“Morning love,” he whispered before placing a kiss on my forehead. Still inches away from my face, he spoke again and I shivered. “Sorry for yesterday, love. I wasn’t myself.” Dave apologized and I wasn’t sure I could differentiate his lies from his rate truths. 

“Don’t worry, babe,” I reassured him, getting up and at the same time, putting some distance between us. “It’s all forgotten,” I lied. 

Daisy, the driver, drove us to King’s College Law School where I was to meet my thesis advisor. Dave and another Police officer stayed three steps behind me at all times and it was driving me mad. I couldn’t decide whether I was scared of us or aroused by him, maybe both?

I turned left, heading to the wing the professor’s offices were located in when I saw Sara walking in my direction. “Oh fuck,” I groaned as softly as I could manage, hoping no one had heard me. As soon as she spotted me, she came to greet me. 

“Oh hi, Alma,” Sara chirped, balancing her cup of tea and the phone in the same hand, before kissing my cheeks. “About the other night, I’m sorry,” she mentioned immediately, apologizing as soon as she remembered our argument. 

“Don’t, don’t apologize, Sara,” I implored, before lowering my voice further. “Maybe you were right, actually,” I admitted in a whisper. 

She nodded understandingly before leaning forward and speaking into my ear. “Why is he standing behind you with a police officer?” Sara questioned, her brows furrowed.

“Because he’s actually my bodyguard,” I confessed. There was no point in lying anyway. 

I was running out of time before my appointment so I promised to call her as soon as I got home in the evening, and explain everything. After all, she had been my friend for as long as I could remember even though we weren’t too intimate. 

Dave and the Police officer waited in the hall while Professor Hartley received me in his office. To summarize, he was pleased with my work but I wasn’t going as fast as he wished. “Professor, I apologize for that. Things have been quite hectic in my internship recently, and it’s becoming somewhat trickier finding time for both.” Maybe I’d have more time for writing if I stopped fucking my bodyguard every night, I thought to myself sarcastically. 

“About that,” Hartley said, drawling out the words while repositioning his glasses. “I believe it would be for the best if you dropped it, Miss Guinness. It seems to me that the situation is becoming somewhat dangerous at the Home Security Office and an internship isn’t worth putting yourself in danger.” He was right, of course he was, Hartley was always right in my experience but it wasn’t just about the money and the work experience now. It was about the lies and the secrets. In the end, we just agreed to disagree.

Exiting his office, both men started following me around again and our steps echoed in the high walls of the halls. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was having a panic attack. “I’m going to the loo,” I announced out of the blue as we passed through the ladies’ room. 

Dave entered the room before me, making sure everything was safe and I then followed him in, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he locked the door behind ourselves. Trembling, I walked over to the sink and closed my eyes, splashed some fresh water onto my face, efficiently ruining my make-up. Then I felt Dave’s hand on my neck, brushing back my hair and it ran shivers through my spine. I was still panting heavily and his proximity wasn’t helping, either because I was scared of him or attracted to him. 

“Are you okay, love?” Dave inquired, staring at my reflection in the mirror. His concern sounded real. Was it?

Years ago, when I was no older than eight or ten, I realized the woman who looked after me and my cousin while my parents weren’t there, was plotting against us, wanting to kidnap us and ask for a ransom. I tried to push the thoughts to the back of my mind, telling myself I was crazy and stupid. After all, the woman had been taking care of us since I was born, why would she suddenly turn on us? In the end, it turned out I was right all along and the plan had been in the making since the very beginning. The only difference between then and now, was that I never liked her and now, I was most likely falling in love with him. 

“Yes, David, thank you. I’m okay,” I jabbered and was walking back to the door when he caught my arm and pulled me to his torso. Dave kissed me and I kissed him even though my head was screaming not to. 

We had been locked in there for too long and things would be getting suspicious if we stayed any longer. “Hold that thought, love,” David mouthed before he unlocked the door and we put on our façade again. 

Now back at the Homeland Security HQ, Dave left, not telling me where he was going and I didn’t ask. If anything, I was relieved. But then I started wondering what he was doing? Recounting what he had heard to someone? His accomplices? Or maybe even his boss? There were just too many questions wandering around in my head and it became even worse when Julia held a new security meeting, this time without Sampson. So, she was in on it too? 

Later that day, Dave and I found ourselves alone in the elevator again. We didn’t small talk, somehow that felt bizarre. And then Dave broke the silence. “Do you want me to come to your room later?” He asked, looking straight ahead and somehow it seemed his Scottish accent has grown even stronger.   
“Maybe later I’ll give you knock,” I answered, misleading him. “I have things I need to work on before.”

“I’m some room service again, huh?” He spat out, accusingly. I wanted to reply but it was too late, the doors opened onto our floor. 

As soon as I was inside my room, I walked to the connecting door to lock it. Julia had handed me a tablet just before I left the office. She told me there was some sensitive material in there and she couldn’t trust to leave it in her room. 

As I sat down on the desk, in front of a blank Word document. My thoughts were on the tablet. My curiosity getting the best of me, I took it from my handbag and turned it on. Of course, it was locked with a password. That’s why she trusted me with it, I thought bitterly. 

I should know better by now but still, I called James. Before doing law, he wanted to be a professional hacker. His parents didn’t allow him but it didn’t stop his passion. Minutes into our phone call, I had various cables plugged into the tablet and my laptop which James was controlling from a distance. “Thank you, James. I’ll make it up to you,” I promised before hanging up. 

Those wore compromising documents on the Prime Minister. Sexual offenses committed years ago. Julia was indeed making her move to 10 Downing Street, and I now understood why she had handed me her tablet. She wasn’t here at the Hotel, she was at the Chequers and she didn’t dare taking the tablet with her nor leaving it in her room.

A couple of hours later, my eyes were too tired to focus on a screen any further. I hid the tablet between my textbooks and sighed. I was no closer to finding out what was going on, and frankly, I didn’t think I wanted to anymore. As Anatole France once said, “ l’ignorance est la condition nécessaire du bonheur ” and in all honesty, I could deal with some happiness right now. 

I made my way to the connecting door and opened it even though I had promised myself I wouldn’t only a few hours ago. Dave’s room was empty, but I heard the water running in the shower. Without making a noise, I walked up to the bathroom and observed him for a few seconds, leaning against the door frame. He was beautiful and not even the scars could take that away from him.

Without giving it any further thought, I got undressed in complete silence before tiptoeing to join him in the shower. “What are you-” Dave asked, his face full of confusion but I didn’t let him finish his sentence as I pulled him down by the shoulders so I could kiss his wet lips. If this was how lies tasted, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. I broke our kiss so we could catch some air but we remained close, our bodies touching and I knew I had gotten him worked up through a single kiss. I licked my lips before purring into his ear. “If you do consider yourself room service,” I respired sensually, “then at least, I should get to taste you.” 

He still looked puzzled when I slid down to my knees in front of him and then he finally got the picture. “Love, you don’t need to do this,” he protested, declining my offer but I knew it was half-hearted. 

As soon as my tongue touched his manhood, he let oud a loud moan before grabbing the glass wall for support. And then, when my mouth engulfed him, he pushed himself further in, making me gag. I couldn’t breathe, but I wasn’t certain I even wanted to. 

That night we went over the rest of condoms I had managed to take from my flat, and when we finally called it a night, Dave fell asleep in his bed within seconds. I waited until his soft snoring picked up to grab his phone from the nightstand. Tiptoeing for the umpteenth time in twenty-four hours, I took the device with me to my bedroom. The tablet has been difficult to get in, but his phone was just too easy. Using the moon as the only source of light, I found out the 4-digit code through the grease marks on the screen. I knew I didn’t have time to go over it, so I copied the contents into my laptop, just how James had explained to me hours before. 

Dave was still asleep when I joined him in bed again and I set his phone down on the nightstand. Having done what I wanted to do, I let myself drift off, entirely forgetting about the tablet and the unclosed door to my room. 

\---------

Today was a big day. The RIPA-18 had just passed the third reading in the House of Commons, which meant that the only obstacle left was the House of Lords. Today, I was also accompanying Julia to St Matthew’s College for her speech on the RIPA-18. 

Julia had already left the House of Commons but I had stayed back to use the loo. Exiting that room, I saw Robert in deep talk with Tahir and immediately knew something wasn’t right. They never spoke. In fact, they probably hated each other as much as Chanel and I. 

Dave followed me to the car before opening the door. The ride was silent, not even Daisy said anything. I suppose everyone was exhausted. At least, I knew I was. Arriving at St Matthew’s just behind Julia’s car, I heard the protestors before I could even see them. Dave cursed under his breath before talking on the radio. I knew the RIPA-18 was controversial but screams were always something that made me panic, no matter the context. 

The cars stopped in front of the building and the protestors kept throwing eggs at us as we made our way inside. Luckily enough, they didn’t catch me but I did feel quite sorry for Kim. Now inside, the noise was easier to tolerate but even the doors couldn’t keep out the screams entirely. Julia introduced herself to the various deans before we were led to the green room. Just as I was about to leave her in there, she called my name. 

“Yes?” I asked, moving back from the door and turning to face her. She was sitting on the sofa, her legs crossed and she appeared quite uneasy. With a small gesture of her hand, she indicated for me to take a seat and so I did. 

“Alma,” she spoke and her voice faltered, before coughing into her hand as if she was embarrassed. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” she admitted and for a second, I thought she would tell me about the documents inside the tablet. “I’ve enjoyed having you around these past few weeks,” she confessed. 

“Likewise, Julia,” I nodded, not liking where this conversation was going. 

“I’ve never had children, Alma,” she continued, not making eye-contact. “But when I attended university, long before I even met Roger, I got pregnant.” She said, her voice cracking. “I had a miscarriage before I could even decide what do.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss, Julia,” I chimed in, but she wasn’t finished. 

“She would have been your age now, and I like to imagine she would have turned out like you, Alma,” she confided, sorrow in her voice. She then leaned forward and squeezed my hand in hers. “I have a feeling that the current situation is getting out of control, and I believe it would be safest if your internship were to stop.” I wanted to respond, to refuse Tom knocked on the door before I could do any of that and we headed to the room where the speech would take place, Tom and Dave walking behind us. 

Julia entered the conference room through the side door, and Dave and I found ourselves alone for a silent moment before we entered the room together and I went to take my place on the first row. 

Julia started her speech, it was captivating but all I could think about was how I had just gotten fired. Out of nowhere. After the small interruption at the beginning by the protestors, things calmed down and the public genuinely enjoyed her speech. Most people laughed when she clarified that the government didn’t care when people googled B-O-O-B-S but that they ought to know when someone searched B-O-M-B. 

My mind was starting to wander around when Tahir walked up on the stage. At the same moment, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Kim frantically running to the same stage. And then Julia looked behind me with shock and fear written all over her face.

Before I could process things, someone threw themselves on me from behind, pushing me to the floor just as the explosion happened. It was the loudest noise I’d ever witnessed, and then everything became dark and silent, expect for the ringing in my ears. I tried to open my eyes, but the ashes made them burn. I couldn’t see anything anyway, someone was lying limp on top of me. What the fuck just happened?!

I tried to wiggle away from the deadweight when I realized it was Dave and he was unconscious. I screamed. I screamed loud enough to rise up the dead but all I heard was the ringing in my ears. I couldn’t hear my own voice. I didn’t need to feel the blood to know that my eardrums had ruptured again. But David still didn’t budge. 

Still panicking, I gathered as much strength as possible and pushed him off me so I could stand up. My legs were shaked and I fell on my knees next to his body. I started shaking his shoulders and when that didn’t work, I screamed again and slapped his cheek. Nothing. 

I closed my eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm down before I started inspecting Dave. He had several cuts on his head, but none of them serious enough to explain his unconsciousness. What was I even talking about, I thought sarcastically, it’s not like I’m a doctor.  
Still, I unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down. They were drenched. With blood, I realized once I saw his naked legs covered in warm, scarlet liquid. Soon enough I found the wound. It was on the back of his right thigh. A shard of glass was sticking out of his leg and blood was leaking, no, it was sprouting from the wound. Acting on instinct, I took off my waist belt and tied it tightly around his thigh, a couple of inches higher than the wound. I continued my inspection when I saw Dave open his eyes for a couple of seconds before closing them again. This was good, right? Right? I found another wound on his shoulder, just were his bulletproof vest couldn’t protect him. It was also bleeding but the area didn’t allow for a garrotte. So, I remained there, holding pressure until the medics arrived. I knew it probably only took a few minutes but to me it felt like an eternity. 

I looked around myself but the ashes filled the air. Some people, at the back of the room, they were standing. But next to us, everyone seemed to be down. I looked at the stage but I couldn’t find Julia in the middle of the debris. 

I didn’t see the emergency medical technicians arrive until someone touched my shoulder. I spoke to the person, hell I even screaming at them but I wasn’t sure they heard me. I didn’t hear myself. “He has a shard in his thigh, I think it’s an artery,” I explained but no one seemed to take notice of what I was saying. I refused to leave the scene until he was put in a stretcher and brought to the ambulance. 

There were so many people and flashing lights outside, and I couldn’t hear a thing which meant my balance was also way off. I stumbled behind Dave’s stretcher, following them blindly to the ambulance. No one really cared about my bleeding ears, neither did I, I was one of the lucky ones.   
Now in the ambulance, I felt dizzier than ever but I forced myself to stay conscious. I needed to able to make sure he was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was St Matthew's bombing. I hope I did it justice, but I would love to hear your opinions.


	6. Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

In the hospital, it seemed like I wasn’t there, like it was unreal or just a dream. More like a nightmare. The ambulance had rushed through the streets but now everything seemed to slow down. As soon as the ambulance came to screeching stop, Dave was hurried to surgery. I asked to be there, but they told me that wouldn’t be possible.   
I watched him being rolled away in that stretcher, through some doors that immediately closed behind them and I wasn’t allowed to follow. 

And then an ER nurse came and started asking me questions but I couldn’t hear him so he had to write it down; his medical antecedents, if he had any allergies, any chronic diseases and I realized I knew nothing about him. When I asked if he would be okay, the only reply I got was “vital prognosis engaged”.   
And I remained there, in the middle of the ER waiting room, all alone and I realized that it didn’t matter if he was spying on Julia, on me, if he was involved in a Coup d’Etat. I was in love with him, no matter what. 

It felt like ages had passed until a nurse went to get me and brought me to the same otorhinolaryngologist as last time. He seemed surprised to see me again so soon, but he didn’t ask questions. Because of the perforation of the tympanic membrane, dirt had entered my middle ear and that was why I was almost deaf at the moment. I stayed put until he cleaned out my ears and I slowly regained my hearing even though the ringing was still there. 

Afterwards, I was brought to do a general check-up: Apart from my elevated heart rate, everything seemed to be fine. I finally dared checking the clock, it was 3 o’clock in the afternoon and the blast had happened at around 11am. Dave had been in there for over three hours. 

They let me stay in the room that had ‘temporarily’ been assigned to him, aka if he survived. I texted my parents to let them I know was fine, I knew they would have heard of it by now and would be worried sick. “I’m not hurt, I’m okay. I’ll call you later.” 

Dave’s cell phone kept ringing. ‘Vicky’ showing brightly on the screen. I couldn’t pick up, what would I even say? I was fidgeting, impatient, looking at the clock and then at the door which led to the ORs every few seconds. Time was drawing on. No was coming out and I texted Sara, asking her to grab me some clothes from my flat and bring them here. 

And then finally, after more than four hours, someone came out. “He’s pulled through,” the nurse announced and I started crying with relief. Apparently, there were some complications with the wound on his legs. A nerve had been touched. They had repaired it the best they could but they couldn’t guarantee it’d be as before. I didn’t care. Not when he could have died altogether. Thirty minutes after that, they rolled him into the room. He was still unconscious but at least I knew he would okay now. 

Sara came by with a duffel bag. She didn’t say anything, just hugging me before leaving again when I asked to be alone. I stood there watching Dave a few more minutes until I convinced myself that he was okay now and I could go to the bathroom to take a shower and change into fresh clothes. 

Just when I re-entered the room, Dave’s phone rang again and this time I could pick up. 

“Dave? Dave!” Vicky screamed into my ear and I had to pull the cell phone away a few inches. “Are you okay?” She was hysterical. Who could blame her? After all, he was still her husband and the father of her kids. 

“Hi Vicky, this Alma, a colleague of Dave’s” I spoke reassuringly, introducing myself. “He’s fine now. They just brought him up from surgery, he’s going to be okay.”

Vicky asked me for more details but I didn’t know a lot myself. She told me she would come by in one hour when her shift ended at another hospital. Because of the attack, her hospital was hectic too. She made me promise to stay with him until she arrived, and I did. 

Sighing, I group-videochatted my parents, trying not to make much noise. As far as I knew, mom was in Cascais (Portugal) and father somewhere in Asia, I didn’t where exactly. “Alma,” they blurted out in unison, picking up after the very first ring. “Are you okay?” Mom asked immediately. 

“I’m fine,” I replied. Physically it was true, mentally not so much. “I was there, but far from the stage.” They didn’t need to know the whole truth. 

“I’m booking you on the first flight to Lisbon,” mom declared, furiously shaking her head. 

“No, mom, wait!” I blurted out, before glancing to the bed to make sure I hadn’t woken him up. “I can’t leave. Not now.” She didn’t want to hear any of my arguments. For her it was out of question for me to stay. 

“Graça, calm down,” dad told mom over the phone. “Stay there if you want, Alma, but I’m sending some private security officers since the Police is obviously incompetent.” I didn’t want that either but I agreed, knowing full well I wouldn’t get out of this without a compromise. 

Vicky arrived soon after I hung up. Our greetings were short and she immediately rushed to his side to see how he was. He still hadn’t woken up. 

“Thank you for staying here with him, Alma,” Vicky finally breathed out, sitting down on a chair next to his bed. 

“Don’t worry about that.” I would have remained there even if she hadn’t asked me to on the phone. 

“What happened?” She eventually inquired, her eyes not leaving Dave. I answered, telling her everything I knew which truth be told, wasn’t a whole lot. I hesitated telling her about Dave putting his life on the line for mine, but I figured I should. After all, she knew what his job was. I just hoped she wouldn’t hate me.

After over an hour, she kept staring at the clock. “Look Vicky, I will stay here until he wakes up. If you need to go check on the kids, do it,” I offered and she accepted although it was obvious she didn’t want to leave. 

\------

I was finally falling asleep on the chair when Dave started waking up, squirming under the covers. I stood up at once, walking over to his side and taking his hand in mine. 

“You’re okay, Dave,” I whispered pressingly. “I’m here.” He didn’t say anything and I figured he must be thirsty after all those hours, so I helped him drink some water. 

“Thank you, love,” he murmured, his voice still raw. I called a nurse in to check up and she gave him more painkillers through the intravenous. “What happened?” He asked after a while. 

I shook my head softly next to his. “An explosion,” I confessed. “But don’t worry about that now.” I kissed his forehead and lied down on the hospital bed to him, cuddling with him. Dave told me about barely being able to feel his leg and I promised we would talk it out with the doctor in the morning. I didn’t want to be the one telling him about the complication. Besides, he needed to rest. 

He fell asleep again and didn’t wake up for the rest of the night. I was restless. I only realized I hadn’t thought about Julia since the attack when news of her death appeared on my smartphone. First I felt guilty; guilty at having met and worked with a powerful woman I looked up to, and yet having entirely forgotten about her the moment the man I was in love with was in danger. Then I felt horrified, even scared, knowing someone like her, someone so confident, brave and powerful remained mortal. 

The morning came and I hadn’t slept. Careful as not to wake up David, I slowly made my way to the bathroom and freshened up. I knew I had so much to take of today and I didn’t even know what exactly. Still in the bathroom, I heard voices and immediately rushed out, thinking it were some nurses or doctors. 

“Who are you?” I inquired accusingly when I realized they were indeed wearing uniforms but not the ones I expected. I closed the door to the bathroom behind myself before walking up to them, arms crossed. 

“I’m DCI Sharma,” the man introduced himself, before pointing at the female next to him. “And this is DS Rayburn.” He even showed me his badge. Alright, so they were Police and I couldn’t kick them out. “You are Alma Guinness, right?” The man asked, looking suspicious. 

“Yes,” I nodded without bothering to uncross my arms. I should have expected the police to turn up at some point but this felt too soon. “Why?”

“We’ve trying to find you,” DS Rayburn explained. “The hospital staff said you’d been discharged but you never showed up at the hotel or at your flat.” Somehow her turn managed to go from concern to suspicion to accusation in the same sentence, and admittedly, I was quite impressed. 

“I’ve been here with Dave, I mean PS Budd since the attack.” I replied simply but inside I was trying to figure out whether they considered me a suspect. They turned to each other at my answer, almost imperceptibly raising their eyebrows. 

“Alright, at least we finally found you,” DCI Sharma quickly changed subjects. “Would you be able to meet us for some questions this afternoon? Say at two?” It might have been formulated as a question but I knew I couldn’t just say no. 

“Of course.”

“In the meantime, could you hand us your electronics?” Rayburn requested with authority which in turn made me raise my eyebrows with surprise. “It’s part of the investigation, we’ll give them back as soon as we’ve gone through them.”

I gave her a quick nod before making my way to the chair where all my belongings were. Mentally, I was checking one last time that I had deleted the texts exchanged with Dave. “Okay, I’m clear,” I thought before coming across the laptop and the tablet in my handbag, hidden beneath the jacket. I cursed internally, before composing myself and returning to them.

“So, here’s my phone,” I said, handing it to Rayburn. “Password’s 1938 but I can’t give you my laptop, it was destroyed in the explosion.” I lied to them, but honestly, there was no way I couldn’t explain their contents without getting myself, Dave or even Julia posthumously in trouble. 

However, DCI Sharma didn’t appear convinced. “How is that your cell phone survived but your laptop, didn’t? Both were in the same distance from the explosion.” He did have a good point and I had to run my hand through my head to gain a few precious seconds and think.

“The cell phone was in my pocket,” I began, making up the lie as I spoke. “It survived because Dave’s body protected it. The laptop was in my bag.” Somehow, I must have convinced them because they let me go. 

Dave started to stir at that moment. I wanted to stay with him, but there was no way I could pull that off without giving away our relationship, whatever that was. I just hoped he had also remembered to delete the text messages. 

Now, outside his bedroom, I found the bodyguards my father had hired, waiting for me. “Ma’am,” the three men said in unison as I approached them. This was exactly what I needed: Being followed by three men as I tried to find a way to hide evidence.   
The only upside to this situation turned out to be that I didn’t need to drive which gave me more time to think. Part of my dad’s deal for me to be allowed to stay here were the bodyguards. The other part, was moving into my parents’ flat. 

First, we stopped at my old flat so I could pack. Then, we stopped at the Blackwood Hotel so I could do the same again but I was informed my previous bedroom was out of bounds as part of the investigation. This was a blow because some of my personal stuff was in there but I was so relieved at having taken my laptop and the tablet with me the other day. 

Now, at my parents flat, I was finally alone. At least to some extent: The guards stayed outside after having secured the perimeter which meant I had some privacy. I had to find a quick place to hide the electronics before I could either destroy them or find a more secure hiding spot. For now, I decided to hide the tablet inside one of the cushions of the kitchen chairs and the laptop inside the turned off heater. Not perfect but this would have to do for now.   
When I was finally done with unpacking, there was no time left to take a nap at it was already half past one. 

\----------

Rayburn turned on the audio recorder and the questioning began. First, they informed me of my rights and then asked whether I wanted a lawyer. I refused. What was even the point of studying law if you weren’t able to defend yourself?

“Witnesses say that before the attack, Julia Montague and yourself spend about half an hour alone in the Green room.” Rayburn read off some written notes before looking at me. “Is that true?”

“It is,” I admitted, short and sweet. 

“Did she share any personal feelings with you?” Rayburn inquired and I wondered whether I should tell them about her firing me because she wanted to protect me, but I decided against it. “Did she talk you about being scared anything would happen?”

“No, she only wanted to go over some parts of her speech before the big audience.” 

“Julia Montague and yourself seemed to get along well and were rather close, according to our sources. Do you confirm?” Sharma was the one asking this time and his voice was less kind than Rayburn’s. 

“Yes. Julia Montague was always nice and respectful with me, and the feeling was mutual.”

“We have been able to get some images and videos from a CCTV camera at the event,” Rayburn drawled as she sorted through the papers in front of her before displaying three pictures in front of me. “These photographs were taken, respectively, one, five and ten minutes after the attack,” Rayburn went on pointing at me on the photograph. “Throughout our recording, we can see that you never left PS Budd’s side until the medics arrived.”

I was about to say something, when Sharma interrupted Rayburn and at the same time, stopped me from talking. “The first one we understand. You had just managed to push his body off yourself and were still taking in what was happening. But you need to explain the other two.”

I looked down at the pictures in front of me even though I already knew what they showed: Me crying over and tending to David. “When I pulled him off me, I noticed he was bleeding. My instinct was to do a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. I stayed with him because the wound on his shoulder didn’t allow for that technique and needed pressure to manage the bleeding.” Rayburn nodded at my explanation, after all, it was the truth. Sharma, on the other hand, looked much less convinced. 

“So, you couldn’t look around while applying pressure? Search for Julia Montague?” Was he trying to accuse me of her assassination? I was truly offended. 

“Julia and I were close. But the explosion was a situation I was not prepared for and I didn’t act rationally.” This would have to do. Both Police officers now nodded and it seemed that topic was settled. 

“How would you describe your relationship with PS Budd?” Rayburn now asked. Honestly, I had been expecting this question from the very beginning. Finding me in his hospital room at the wee hours of the morning was bound to raise questions that I couldn’t answer truthfully without jeopardizing his career. 

“PS Budd has always been very polite and professional with me, both when he was Julia’s PPO and then mine.” I replied, simply repeating out loud the words I had memorized earlier. 

“Other witnesses have testified that two nights before the explosion at St Matthew’s, PS Budd and yourself left the Blackwood Hotel, and only returned four hours later.” Rayburn stated, before asking me the expected question. “Where did you go?”

“I went to meet some friends, Sara Defair and Cedric Murton. We had dinner and then a few drinks. PS Budd accompanied me as my bodyguard.” Technically speaking, this was true. 

“You stand by your previous statement that your relationship with PS Budd has never been anything but professional?” Sharma inquired, his eyes looking right into mine which made me quite uncomfortable. 

“Yes, I do.” Honestly, what should I do? If I say no, then I’d be admitted I lied to them. If say yes, then I’m deeply fucked if Dave’s forgotten to delete the text messages. 

Rayburn took over, looking at me condescendingly. “We found used condoms in the trashcans, both in your bedroom and in PS Budd’s.” I immediately went red. I tried not to, but I was too embarrassed to control the blood flow in my cheeks. Most of all, this issue had completely escaped my mind and I didn’t know how to get out of it. “Naturally, we will run DNA tests but it would be a lot faster if you confirmed that the condoms we found contain both your and PS Budd’s DNA.”

In the end, I confessed. There was no way I could deny this in the 21st century with our modern DNA tests. At least, that seemed to shut the topic but I now feared Dave would be sanctioned. 

“Is there anything of interest you’d like to add, Miss Alma Guinness?” Sharma asked, the tip of his finger almost on the off button of the recorder.

“Yes, there is.” I announced solemnly and the way they both remained frozen would have been comical if I hadn’t just gone through the biggest embarrassment in my life just seconds ago. “The morning of the attack, at the House of Commons, I saw Rob MacDonald and Tahir Mahmood talk, alone, which in itself was bizarre since they hate each other. And then, Rob handed Tahir the briefcase.”

“The one briefcase Tahir brought to the stage just before the explosion?” Sharma asked for more details, now leaning forward. 

“Yes, the very same one.”

\------

While things exactly didn’t go as planned, it seemed the last piece of information had at least redeemed me partially in the eyes of Rayburn and Sharma. At the end of the interview, Rayburn even offered me her phone number in case I remembered anything else. 

Now that this had been taken care of, I returned to the hospital. The positive point was that since the Police now knew about our nocturnal activities, there was no point in hiding. When I arrived in his bedroom, Dave seemed much more alert although he was still lying in bed. 

“Hi there,” I cooed before approaching him, not caring about how I might sound. “Are you feeling better?”

David nodded. “Yes, love.” It was obvious he was now in less pain than yesterday. I wanted to tell him about the interview but he continued before I could say anything. “I’ve been discharged actually.”

“First, the Police know that you and I really got to know each other,” I informed him, stressing out the ‘really’ and wiggling my brows so he would understand what I was saying. “Second, that’s not possible. You cannot be discharged. I mean, you’re doing better, but not hospital-leaving better.”

Dave chuckled at my antics but it was then followed by an almost unnoticeable grimace. His shoulder still hurt. “I signed the discharge papers, so I’m leaving.” 

I tried to convince him to stay, but in the end, he was an adult and it was his decision. Hell, I wasn’t even family so my opinion had no value. I helped him get dressed in some fresh clothes Vicky had dropped by before work. She had come by with Ella and Charlie so they could see their father.

Dave appeared self-conscious and uneasy at needing help for such a simple thing like getting dressed. “Look Dave, you only have two options: Stay here and have nurses care for you. Leave and have me care for you.” Begrudgingly, he complied. 

The bodyguards also came in handy when I wasn’t able to help Dave into and out the car on my own. Dave was silent the entire drive, most likely uncomfortable at having bodyguards when he was a bodyguard. I guess he felt the way I would have felt I had gotten a lawyer. 

The car came to a stop in front of the building of my parents’ flat and David insisted on using the crutches instead of the wheelchair. I sighed but knew better than to argue. The guards did a quick scan of the flat before letting us in, finally alone. 

“So, this is where my parents’ stay when they come to London,” I explained, as I showed Dave through the flat. I hated this flat: Everything was white and modern and I preferred things dark and old. We finally reached the corridor serving the bedrooms. “So, on the left is my parents’ room and on the right side is my bedroom,” I indicated, before entering my room and setting down David’s duffel bag on a chair. 

“I thought your parents’ were divorced,” Dave finally spoke, his brows furrowed before he let himself rest his arms and sit down on the bed. 

“Yeah, they’re not. They just don’t spend a whole lot of time together,” I drawled, opening the drawers I had left empty in the morning for his clothes. I was glad he didn’t comment. We had never really spoken about where he was to go after being discharged, but after all this, it would feel weird to leave him in his apartment. “There’s actually a lot of stuff we don’t about each other,” I chuckled, remembering something. “Like, are you allergic to any meds?”

We spent the rest of the evening tucked into bed. Dave didn’t want to admit it, but even standing up hurt. Besides, eating Chinese take-out in bed with Netflix on the background was my kind of evening. “What’s your favourite colour, love?” Dave asked with food still in his mouth, during his turn of the 20-questions game.

“Green,” I exclaimed without thinking. “But not apple green. More like emerald, Slytherin green.” Turned out, David thought of himself as a Gryffindor, just like I expected. 

“Favourite subject in school?” After all we had gone through together, it was crazy that we still had to ask each other those questions. Perhaps, I should’ve asked why he had been spying on Julia? But whatever the answer, it wouldn’t change my feelings towards him so there was no point in asking it now and ruining the evening. 

“English.” I raised my eyebrows, a tad surprised but he didn’t budge. “Why? Is my English not good enough for you, Miss Alma Guinness?” Dave asked mockingly but deep inside he was actually insecure at our difference in upbringing. 

“No, I just expected you to say P.E. like just about every guy I’ve ever met,” I confided and we both laughed. 

We called it an early night at 9pm since we were both exhausted. Back in bed with our teeth brushed, Dave and I stared at each other in silence as we realized that we had never slept in the same bed without having sex first. “Alright, I’ve always wanted to be the big spoon at least once in my life so roll on to your good side and let me cuddle you,” I blurted out, trying to dissipate the uneasiness. It seemed to work although I soon realized being the big spoon was much less comfortable than the little. 

“Do you want to switch, love?” Dave offered, trying to hide a chuckle.

“Just shut up Dave,” I mumbled with amusement. The room went silent for a few minutes and I tried falling asleep, without success. 

“Love,” Dave whispered out of the blue. I squeezed his hand to let him know I was listening. “I forgot to delete the text messages on my phone so DCI Sharma and DS Rayburn already knew about us when they interviewed you,” he confessed, almost sheepishly. 

“So, you’re telling me I went through that embarrassment for nothing?” I blurted out accusingly, but then we both had to agree that it was funny and would have been even more so if we hadn’t been the victims of the embarrassment. 

I finally managed to fall asleep even though I knew that my arm, which was under Dave’s body, would hurt like hell in the morning. For a split second, I worried he’d have nightmares, his PTSD being worsened by the attack but I was confident the painkillers probably impeded that. 

I woke up three hours later with a loud noise and some cursing. Eyes still closed, I brushed my arm over the mattress next to me. David wasn’t here. Panicked, I turned on the light and left the bed, searching for him. 

“Shit David!” I cursed immediately when I found him. He was lying on the bathroom floor, his hand squeezing his thigh in agony, the crutches on the ground next to him. I hurried my way to him, helping him up again. At least the stitches hadn’t ripped but that was little consolation considering the pain David now was in. “What were you thinking?” I blurted out, anger covering my worry. “I told you to wake me if you needed to use the bathroom.”

“I’m not an invalid,” Dave spat out, escaping eye-contact with me. His knuckles were white around the crutches and I figured out that the emotional pain of being injured was as bad, if not worse, than the physical pain for him. 

He kept on refusing my help, protesting each time I went to help him but when I reminded him that he could either let me help him or I would call one of the bodyguards to do it, he complied. I sat him down and then waited for him outside, before walking him back to the bedroom. 

\--------

I was wide awake again. Dave had managed to get back to sleep but I wasn’t so lucky. Sighing, I left the bed, making as little noise as possible. I walked to the living room and got my laptop from the heater. 

Turning it on, I noticed I had new email message, from a masked address. “Meet me, tonight at 2am. 13 Holly Road, Hounslow.” The email had been sent to the one email address, out of the four that I owned, that wasn’t linked to my phone, which meant they knew the Police had it. 

A smart person would have ignored the email and joined Dave in bed. I was too tired to be smart. I was exhausted, annoyed and quite frankly, I just wanted to put an end to all this madness in my life. Feeling numb, I walked to the kitchen and stepped on a chair to reach the high cupboards. I had hidden it in there long ago, never thinking there’d be a time where I’d need it. But that time had just come, I thought drily and I grabbed a gun from inside a cookie box and the bullets from the empty cereal bag. 

I checked in on David one last time, before going back to the living room, out to the balcony and then climbing up to the rooftop. The door was open just as always, and I managed to get inside the elevator without the guards noticed I had left the flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So this chapter features fewer Alma/Dave scenes but I still hope that you enjoyed it.   
> Since you all have watched the show, you probably know what sad scene will be present in the next chapter.


	7. Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

Taking my car wasn’t an option. The bodyguards could probably track it from a distance with some sort of device. I went in to the garage, on the minus 2 floor of the building. I pressed on a button of the car key in my hand and the lights of a Porsche 911 turned on. In my souvenirs, the car was less red, but after all, it had been a while since I’d last driven my dad’s car. 

I couldn’t use my phone for guidance since the police had confiscated it. That meant I had to put my open laptop on the driver’s seat and I hoped I would come across no Police officers, especially, you know, because of the gun inside my bag. 

I didn’t put in the exact address into the Nav, but rather a parking lot about two miles away. I backed away carefully from the parking spot, knowing father would kill me if I scratched his baby. 

Now on the road, I began to remember why I loved this car so much. The very sound of the engine made you feel free and it was as if you could forget everything else. The drive went by smoothly and the Porsche swept through the highway. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling I was doing something dishonest, naughty even. Should I have told David? I began to worry, but then realized it was too late: I was almost there and had no phone. 

I parked the car on the parking lot which was almost empty if not for the overfilled dumpsters clustered around the fences. I took my handbag from the driver’s seat and placed my laptop inside, also making sure I still had the gun.   
I was weary and shaky as I walked on the wet asphalt, hoping I had correctly memorized the way. The streetlights were scarce and I could hear the echo of my own steps, somehow exuberating my uneasiness. 

When I was less than a mile away from the given address, the echo distorted, resonating differently. I took a turn I didn’t need and noticed there was someone walking behind me. “Fuck,” I cursed internally, feeling rather helpless in the middle of nowhere with no phone. I turned another turn, into a smaller alley this time and the shadow followed me in.   
I stopped in my tracks, appearing as if I was searching for something inside my bad so I could confirm the suspicions. Just when I was about to think I had been imagining things, an arm encircled my neck from behind, strangling me. I knew it!

Now on overdrive, I instinctively kicked the man behind me in the crotch area before freeing myself from his hold in the short seconds of confusion that followed my kick. I immediately grabbed the gun from my bag and pointed it at him, the safety off and my shaky finger on the trigger. It was just a kid, I noticed. Sixteen or seventeen, maybe. The black-haired teenager was looking at me with fright, his hands up in the air as he pleaded for me not to shoot. 

My hand was trembling. I couldn’t shoot someone at point blank, even as exhausted as I was. “Just leave me alone and go home,” I shouted, shaking my head. The teenager immediately complied, leaving me alone. I took a few seconds to calm down before I started running too, to the address in the email. 

I arrived at the house. It wasn’t difficult to find since there weren’t that many on that street. While it wasn’t exactly in ruins, it did seem as if no one had taken care of it in a long while. I let out a long breath and squared my shoulders before walking up the stairs to the porch. Just as I was about to knock, a bald man dressed in a suit opened the door. 

“Miss Guinness, come on in,” he greeted me. His voice seemed neutral, neither happy nor displeased at seeing me. I followed him inside and noticed the wallpaper was coming off in bits and the wooden floor cracked too much for it to be safe.   
The bald man led me to a large room, and there she was! Julia Montague sitting down on a chair, looking all banged up, as if she’d gone through hell and back. She managed a smile at my sight, moving as much of her face as she possible could through the severe burns. 

“Alma,” she spoke, her voice so weak it became close to a whisper. “I’m happy to see you made it out just fine.” Julia tried sitting upright, but she could barely move, at least not without help. 

“What happened?” I blurted out, my eyebrows furrowed. How was she even alive?! 

“After the explosion, as I was brought to the hospital, I met with Anne Sampson,” Julia explained before coughing heavily. “She and rest of the high placed staff at the New Scotland Yard thought playing dead was the only way for me to make it out alive.”

Julia gave me more details, but it didn’t make sense in my head. “David and I are suspects!” I shouted, full of accusation. Maybe she was safe now, but she’d definitely left a mess behind herself. 

“I know you didn’t plant the bomb, Alma,” Julia said softly, as if that would reassure me. “That’s why I called you here.”

“You’re right Julia, I didn’t do it,” I spat out, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Neither did Dave but he’s now under investigation!”

Julia sighed, and I was envious at how she managed to stay calm in such times but I wasn’t about to cut her some slack. “Alma, I know you love him,” she declared straightforward as if it was a universal truth. “That doesn’t mean he can be trusted.” I cocked an eyebrow at her, before leaning back against the sofa. “Alma, don’t tell me he never behaved suspiciously?” She said leadingly, but it was almost as she was daring me to defy her statement. And I had zero tolerance for dares. 

“No, he never did behave suspiciously.” I affirmed with authority though I was lying through my teeth. She most likely knew it but didn’t say anything. 

Speaking lower again, Julia asked me to keep the tablet hidden. She couldn’t trust Sampson’s people with it and for some reason I couldn’t quite grasp, she thought I could be trusted. 

“Alright, it’s getting late,” Julia deadpanned, making me look at the clock. It was after 5am and if you concentrated enough, you could distinguish the birds chirping outside. “So, let me tell you the real reason I called you here.”

Julia needed me to pursue my internship. No, she needed me to spy on Mike Travis, who was acting at the interim Home Secretary. She didn’t trust him, and I had no option but to accept this, this mission. She handed me an old red Nokia. “The text messages you sent through this phone can’t be traced,” she explained. 

I left the house around 6am and the neighbourhood did seem a lot less gloomy and daunt in daylight. I made my way back to the car, feeling confused, betrayed, angry… So many things at the same time, I believed my head would explode at any given second but somehow it didn’t. She did give me an idea though, and I stopped at an electronics store in the outskirts of London to buy two cell phones before heading back to my parents’ flat. 

\----

The elevator arrived on the seventh floor, and I stepped out walking to the front door. The bodyguard on duty seemed surprised to see me. 

“Miss, I thought you were inside,” he stuttered, looking at the closed door and then at myself again. 

“Well, I’m kind of a magician,” I chirruped rather irritated before letting myself in as the man remained outside, looking puzzled. 

Once inside I called for David but I didn’t get a reply. I walked to my bedroom, or rather to our bedroom but he wasn’t there and the bed was made up. I searched the entire apartment, becoming more aggravated each time I didn’t find him. Sighing in defeat, I opened the front door again. 

“Hey, did you see David?” I wondered lightly, not wanting to show any more emotion to a stranger.

“He left a couple of hours ago,” the light-haired man replied, short and sweet as he continued standing straight. 

“And you let him?!” I blurted out, almost screaming as I realized I had no means of contacting Dave since he had no phone.   
“Miss, our duty is towards you, not him,” he explained and I felt so much anger rush inside me that I could either knock his head unto the wall or the shut the door with so much strength, I’d wake the entire floor. Rationally, I took the second option even though the first one was more appealing.   
Inside the flat, it took me a while to calm down and start breathing normally again. I didn’t know what was going on with me. I was now sobbing, my back sliding down against the wall of the bedroom until my butt hit the floor. 

This wasn’t me, I thought drily. I didn’t cry, I didn’t raise my voice, I didn’t panic. Those were emotions which has absolutely no logical or rational purpose and I was a rational person. Crying wouldn’t make the pain go away, screaming wouldn’t make the situation stop and panicking wouldn’t prevent events from happening. And yet, I couldn’t stop myself from feeling any of those emotions. 

I wiped the ears away from my cheeks with the back of my hand and tried steadying my breath. “You’re alright, Alma,” I whispered softly to myself. “You’re just exhausted, you haven’t slept in a few days,” I continued, breathing in and out slowly. I almost managed to convince myself of that but there was a feeling at the back of my mind that I couldn’t shake. Something was wrong, I just couldn’t pinpoint what. 

I took a quick shower and changed into clean clothes, misleading myself into thinking this made everything okay. I hid my laptop and gun again, before leaving the flat and meeting the fair-haired bodyguard again. “Can you drive me to the Homeland Security HQ?” 

They drove with me to work but because of Britain’s exclusive jurisdiction on security matters inside the building, they couldn’t follow me in. Somehow, I still had the clearance with allowed me to get to the main floor, just like Julia had promised. 

Once there, I immediately rushed to the reception desk. “Hey Susan,” I chirruped, making the middle-aged woman look up at me. “Is there any way I could speak with Mike Travis?”   
Susan replied that he wasn’t taking any visitors today but that she would ask nonetheless. 

“He’s waiting for you,” she informed me, holding the door to Julia’s previous office open for me. 

“Sir Travis,” I greeted him as I approached his silhouette to shake his hand. Somehow, I had never liked him and I was rather sure the feeling was mutual. He indicated for me to take a seat and so I did. 

“Miss Guinness,” Mike Travis spoke and I could finally pinpoint exactly what about him made me so distrustful: His voice sound just like Wormtail’s from the Harry Potter movies. “I didn’t think you’d want to continue your internship after all that’s happened.” So, Travis did want to get rid of me. 

“Oh, well,” I chuckled falsely. “You know how us Brits do it: Keep calm and carry on.” 

He didn’t seem convinced by my act, not in the least but he had no official or legal grounds to terminate my internship. Especially since he knew who my uncle was. Instead, he assigned me to boring legal duty with the rest of the legal advisors. Great. 

I did witness how he held a security meeting, with Stephen Hunter-Dunn and Anne Sampson, among others, but I had no way of joining them. The day seemed to draw on. The work was of the most boring kind and most of all, I was worried about Dave. The only positive thing was that in the legal advice service, your day ended at five. And when the clock hit five o’clock I was more than ready to leave. 

I rushed into the car downstairs. “Home?” The oldest bodyguard inquired as he turned on the engine. 

“No, take me here instead.” I forwarded him a piece of paper in which Dave’s address had been scribbled. I didn’t want to be clingy, to chase after him but he had no phone and I was worried. After more than twenty minutes, the car stopped in front of a line of grey, monotone, identical houses. I had never been here but we were at the right address, so this had to be it. 

I exited the car and the men followed me around the block until I found the correct house number. I knocked on the door but there was no answer. Then I found the doorbell and decided to ring it, but no one came to open the door. 

“Miss, are you sure you gave us the correct address?” The bodyguard asked kindly, seeming rather worried about my panicked state but his concern only managed to anger me further. I tried to look through the blinds but the house seemed empty. He was probably with Vicky, I tried to convince myself but I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong. 

“Will do you do me a favour?” I asked the light-haired one again as I crutched down next to door. The young man nodded. “Take your phone and set up an appointment with a glazer, please.” I finished, just before picking up a rock and throwing it at the window, which immediately shattered. 

Without giving it another thought, I slid myself inside, trying not to cut myself. “You guys stay here,” I ordered, before moving away from the window. The house was very grey and monotone, just like the whole block. It made me wonder if Dave had given me the correct address all those months ago when we first met. 

“Shit!” I cursed out loud. I slid down to my knees next to him, behind the couch. His was lying on the floor, against the back of couch and the fabric was ruddy. “Oh, my gosh, David!” I blurted out, panicking as I grabbed his shoulders to pull him upright and my hands came back tainted with blood. “What the fuck happened?!”

He finally raised his head, looking at me. His face was stained with blood, but what caught my eyes were the dried-up tears around his eyes and on his cheeks. I wasn’t doing okay since the bombing, but Dave was doing worse. He tried to speak, but his throat was raw and he coughed before trying again, his voice barely audible. “The bullets,” he mumbled, pointing at the gun on the floor, next to the crutches, “they were blanks.”

“Thank God for that David,” I spat out sarcastically, staring at the gun. Dave was mumbling something about someone having broken into his flat, but I didn’t care about that when he was in this state. Seeing Dave like this made me realize I wasn’t up to the task. Maybe I could help, but I wasn’t enough. Not when he was this bad. “I’m taking you to the hospital,” I announced, seeing the wound on his head. 

Dave protested with all the strength he had left. “Don’t, love, please,” he begged. 

Silently, I helped him stand and handed him the crutches. I waited for him to sit down before I went to the bathroom downstairs to retrieve the first aid kit Dave had told me about. Now inside the bathroom, under the cold light, I noticed I had managed to smear my face with my bloody hands. With his blood. The freezing water hit my hands in the sink, making them tremble more if that was even possible. I wanted to cry, but my eyes wouldn’t let me. I couldn’t. I needed to be strong, for him. 

Somewhat calmer though still shaky, I returned to the kitchen, he was sitting upright staring straight ahead. Following his gaze, I noticed the four envelopes positioned on the buffet and immediately knew what was inside. Instead of commenting on that, because what would I even say, I searched for a Youtube video on my phone to learn how to stitch. 

“Can you at least tell me why?” I finally dared ask as I hunted down the bullet fragments on his skull with a pair of tweezers. He didn’t even budge under my touch. 

Dave didn’t answer and after a few minutes, I no longer expected him to, but then his face broke down again and he confided in me. “I’m an invalid, Alma,” he spat out, like he was disgusted with himself. “First, I wasn’t capable of doing my job and protecting you,” he admitted. I wanted to interrupt him, disagree, after all I was still alive, but he went on before I had the words figured out. “And now, I’m not even capable of walking properly, let alone run,” his voice was seemingly louder now as he continued his rant. “I’m not even able to put a bullet through my brain,” he blurted out in agony.   
I took the time to remove the last fragment from his skull before speaking. I needed to figure out what to say and how to say it, or this would all go up in flames. 

“Dave,” I cooed, squatting down in front of him and taking his hands in mine. “Dave, look at me,” I repeated before placing my thumb under his chin and forcing his eyes to meet mine. The bright blue orbs were washed out and it broke my heart into a thousand pieces.   
I let out a long breath, before speaking softly. “I don’t care whether you can walk smoothly or run. Neither do Ella, Charlie or Vicky, Dave,” I spoke in earnest, taking a moment to wet my dry lips. “We love you for who you are. You’re aren’t just some PPO, David,” I stopped for a second, my voice cracking under the emotion. “You’re a human being. You’re a father, a husband, a friend, and a lover.” I felt too warm all of the sudden, putting myself out there like this, completely out of character but at least Dave was still staring at me. “Most of the time, you’re also a provider, but you are much than that and you remain the David Budd we love even if you need to stop being the provider every once in a while, and be the received instead.”

Dave’s eyes broke out in tears and I closed my eyes, internally cursed at myself at having made things worse. Again. But then I felt his arms around me, he was hugging me, sobbing next to my face, and let him stay like this for as long as he needed. 

The mood was much lighter as I cleaned his scalp with alcohol and stitched his wound to the best of my abilities. Afterwards, I helped him downstairs to the bathroom, and he didn’t protest. I did notice however, that he was walking with more ease and it brought a smile to my lips. I let him get dressed in peace and went outside to let the bodyguards know we were going to the safe house. When Dave joined us outside, he was wearing a black cap and it suited his face. 

The ride to Vicky’s house was relatively silent. There were some things David and I needed to talk about, but those were important matters we couldn’t discuss with strangers listening in on us. 

Vicky tightly hugged Dave as soon as he stepped inside. She opened her eyes mid-hug and mouthed “thank you” at me. Then the kids came running downstairs, both hugging their father, almost making him loose balance. 

It was only after a few emotional minutes that Ella noticed I was there. “Who are you?” The little girl asked suspiciously, with those big eyes only kids seemed to be blessed with. 

“I’m Alma, a friend of your dad’s.” I wasn’t sure how to introduce myself to the kids but Ella simply shrugged it off before hugging me as well, taking me by surprise. Charlie was a lot more reserved but he did smile and nod when I said hello. 

Vicky had ordered pizza and we all sat around the table for dinner. Some chit chat was made, but it felt as we, the adults, were all hiding something. 

Out of nowhere, Ella stopped eating her slice of pizza and looked up at her dad with confusion. “Why are you wearing a hat?”

David looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “It keeps my head warm,” he managed to say after a few seconds but neither Ella nor Charlie seemed convinced. Gazing at them, Dave started silently sobbing. I looked at Vicky, not knowing what do it, but she didn’t seem better prepared for this situation then I was. 

“Dad, what’s wrong?” Charlie asked, his childish, happy voice cutting through the sombre atmosphere. 

Dave started shaking his head softly before speaking weakly. “Nothing, I just need a hug.” At once, both kids jumped up from their chairs and went to hug their father again. And if Dave’s face was anything to go by, their hugs were indeed the best painkillers in the world. 

Letting Dave have some quality time with his kids, I grabbed the empty pizza boxes and followed Vicky into the small kitchen. She was piling up the glasses in the dishwasher and silently pointed to a big cardboard box where they seemed to collect all the recyclables. 

“I know you aren’t just a friend,” Vicky said, breaking the silence. I turned to face her, somehow scared she’d be angry but she actually sported a small grin on her face. “It’s okay, Alma. I’m happy if he’s happy.”

Her words stung even though she most likely didn’t intend that. Dave wasn’t happy and I felt powerless to change that. “Do I want to know the reason for the cap?” Vicky asked after a few long seconds had passed, observing Dave with the kids as she leaned against the doorframe. 

“I suppose your first guess is correct,” I intimated, finding a subtle way around the sensitive subject. She knew what the cap was hiding, it was obvious and yet not enough for it to be publicly discussed. “I’m going to try to convince him to seek professional help.”

Vicky sighed before turning around and putting her hands on the top of my shoulders. “Good luck with that, Alma,” she sputtered, somewhat hesitant. “I’ve been trying for years without luck.”

David and I remained with them until it was time for the children to go to bed. The kids appeared heartbroken as Dave wished them goodnight, but he promised to come by again soon.

\------

Now on our way home, Dave did appear to be in higher spirits. I wouldn’t say he was happy, but he did seem soothed, even surprising me when he took and kissed my hand as we were being driven home. 

Just like all the previous days I could remember, I was tired, incredibly so. But considering Dave’s state, it’s not like we would have gone out clubbing anyway so I ignored the fatigue, thinking it was normal. I doubted he even did go clubbing in his free night. We both got dressed for bed and for the first time, appeared to be like normal people. 

I was reading a Turkish novel, Kurt Seyt vê Sura, I’d begun months ago and had just found again on the nightstand. Dave was lying in bed next to me, setting up the new phone I had handed him when we arrived home from dinner. 

“Love?” He asked eventually, his Scottish accent smoothly breaking the silence and I breathed out a small ‘huh’. “I know we never really talked about that, but hum-,” he stopped mid-sentence, reconsidering his wording and I dropped my book, rather interested now. “The whole condom story the other day made me wonder if you took another contraceptive.”

I chortled in genuine amusement, but Dave was silent and confused. The fact that men, even in their thirties just like now, always became so uneasy when discussing contraception was too funny. “Yes, Dave, I’m on the pill,” I finally managed to reply when I regained my breath. “Don’t worry about that.” To be fair, considering the amount of stress I had been under in the past weeks and how exhausted I was in this moment, I doubted my reproductive system even had enough energy to work properly. 

Silence conquered the bedroom again and I was about to turn off the light when I saw Dave rubbing his shoulder, a small grimace on his face. “Here, let me give you a massage,” I offered and gestured for him to turn around, which he did. Careful as not touch the wound on his thigh, I straddled him, putting my weight on his buttocks. 

For the first time, I now realized how deep the scars on his back really went. While some were fine and almost imperceptible by touch, others felt like crevasses, like they had been carved into his skin and flesh with nothing but cruelty and pain. I sighed internally as I mentally took in the causes of the scars and it reinforced my belief that David needed therapy if his mental scars were just one tenth as deep as the ones on his back.   
Putting these thoughts to the back of my mind for now, I grabbed some hand lotion I always kept on my night stand and started rubbing it into his skin, carefully avoiding the bandage on the back of his shoulder. Instantly, I felt Dave’s muscles quiver and then relax beneath my hands.

“Thank you for today, love,” Dave murmured against the pillow after a few minutes. “And seeing Ella and Charlie again, I really needed that.”

I didn’t reply, instead I placed a kissed on his deepest running scar hoping that somehow it would help. When his skin had fully absorbed the lotion and my arms were tired, I rolled over to my side with a sigh. 

“You know what, honey?” I used that nickname on purpose to make him move since I never used it otherwise. To my consternation, David turned his head towards me but didn’t move the rest of his body. “I think you should turn around and give me a foot rub.” I simpered, on the border of erupting with laughter. 

“Sorry, love, but I can’t do that,” Dave whispered, his face still buried against the pillow. Curiosity was now getting the best of me, I mean, I could have just said no. 

“Oh, come on, Dave,” I insisted still amused, now grabbing his good shoulder to roll him around myself. 

To my amusement, and to Dave’s unjustified embarrassment, I quite immediately understood why Dave didn’t want to turn around when I saw the growing bulge inside his black boxer brief. Well, it had been a few days, I told myself as I licked my lips. “I could actually help you with that, you know?” I suggested brazenly, looking up at Dave with an expression I hoped was sensual. 

“Oh, you can?” Dave dared me with his deep voice, now having positioned his left arm over the pillow to support his head, and his embarrassment had now obviously dissipated, into something more confident. 

“I do believe it’s within my area expertise,” I purred, trying not to laugh at my own words as I took off my bra and moved to straddle him. Dave pulled himself into an almost upright position, his attention now having diverted to my breasts. “On one condition, though,” I added, already panting with excitement. 

“Whatever you want, love,” Dave moaned, the fabric of our underwear rubbing against each other as his tongue took over my nipple. Satisfied with the answer, I pulled off his boxers and pushed my panties to side, our bodies almost able to connect but not quite yet.   
I pulled his face away my chest until I could trace kisses on his face, from his lips to his ear. Finally letting our bodies connect, I whispered my condition in his ear, “you’ll start therapy next week,” before moaning with pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is chapter six ladies (and gentlemen ?). As you can see, we are approaching the end of the show's plot and although some questions are still open, I believe there are two chapters left. I might continue the story behind the plot of the show, but only if there's a request for it.


	8. Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

The next morning, I was in hurry. Just like the past few nights, sleep escaped me and I had only started dozing off minutes between the alarm went off. I felt like I was both moving and thinking in slow-motion. Dave woke up as well by the sound of the alarm but I told him to stay in bed, feeling too cranky to have company during breakfast, even his. 

I had to meet my thesis advisor in thirty minutes and then head to the office. I put on a fresh dress, not bothering with showering even though last night had been sweaty. When I re-entered the bedroom to pick up my bag, Dave was sitting in bed, absentmindedly rubbing his injured leg while on his phone. Most likely, he was texting Vicky, I thought. And when he raised his head to look at me, his blue eyes more beautiful than ever, it felt as if I was okay again, at least for a few seconds. But then, it passed and my inner-self was crumbling to pieces again.

“Have a good day, Dave,” I said with a sort of enthusiasm I didn’t feel before leaning down to kiss him on the cheek but he moved his face on purpose, and our lips touched instead. At least, this still felt awesome, I thought, trying to reassure myself that everything would be okay.

I pulled back quickly, running around the room, looking for my bag. “Alright, so you have a nurse coming over at 10 to check your wound and change the bandage,” I droned as I bent down to search under the bed. Nothing. “And if something’s wrong you call me. Okay?” I asked, insisting on the last word when I finally found my handbag behind the door and sighed with relief. “Okay?” I repeated myself, pointedly looking at him but Dave just seemed amused. 

“Okay, love,” he chuckled, before stretching out. “Have a good day!”

\---------

Professor Hartley was more understanding than I’d expected. First, he didn’t even point out I was fifteen minutes late. Second, he told me he was pleased with my pace which we both knew was a lie. I hadn’t touched a single law book since St Matthew’s and he knew that. But for whatever reason, everyone seemed to think you deserved to rest after living through something like that, even if you weren’t injured. Everyone, except my brain it seems. 

All night I had spent thinking about someone having tampered with his gun. Obviously, it wasn’t the Police when they searched his house, they would just have confiscated it. Which only really left one option: Someone had broken into his place. I had desperately wanted to discuss it with him but he had fallen asleep soon after sex, and considering what an emotional rollercoaster his day had been, I couldn’t wake him up. Even if that meant I couldn’t fall asleep myself. 

On our way to the Home Office HQ, I asked to stop at a pharmacy. I stood in line, rummaging through the mess inside my handbag until I found the folded piece of paper I’d been looking for and handed it to the pharmacist. She raised her eyes at the prescription, but remained silent before leaving to go look for it in the back. I was fidgeting, rhythmically tapping the tips of my fingers on the wooden counter and though I knew I was annoying everyone, I couldn’t physically stop myself. A few minutes later, she appeared again, holding a box each of Trazolan and Sonata. I quickly paid for my purchases and hurried back into the car. 

Nervously, I popped out one pill of each and threw them in my mouth, not even bothering with water. I was well aware I shouldn’t take them both at the same, the doctor had repeated it a dozen times, but desperate times called for desperate measures and if I were to fall asleep on my job, then who fucking cared.

But I wasn’t lucky enough for that happen. Instead, I spent my workday ineffectively going over legal documents and aimlessly wandering the halls, but sleep never came. I took a few more pills but by the time 5 o’clock came around, I was still conscious and yet feeling dead inside. 

I wasn’t sure the guards were telling in on me to my parents, giving them all the details about my whereabouts, but I didn’t really care at this point. I asked the guards to drive me to a small supermarket, or rather a limited grocery store I knew all too well. Inside, I grabbed a bottle of orange juice and some biscuits to make it look less suspicious and walked over to the cashier.

I placed the items on the counter and grabbed my purse. “I’ll also take some flour, enough for 10 muffins, please” I added and the young cashier looked me in the eyes for a couple of seconds before opening a small drawer on his side and taking out some miniscule plastic bags. I quickly paid in cash and walked over to the car.

“Do you have everything, miss?” The man bald inquired, giving me a quick look through the mirror before turning on the engine. 

“Yes, thank you. I was just running out of breakfast necessities,” I replied, absentmindedly as I grabbed my phone, having heard a message notification. 

“I’m having a pint with a colleague tonight. Don’t know what time I’ll be home. Love you.” David had written. Somehow, you could really notice that he wasn’t a millennial by the way he wrote his text messages and it made me chuckle. I was glad though that he had taken the time to text me and let me know everything was okay. 

“Have fun!” I sent back joyously though I felt nervous and worried about his safety. The bomber was still at large. Yesterday only, there had been a false alert on the Vauxhall Bridge and you only needed to walk in the streets of London for a few minutes to notice the tension. I tried calming myself, if he was going out with a friend, it meant he was feeling better, right? 

Being alone tonight would actually be good for me. I’d have time to work on my thesis and even do laundry, something in which I was running behind. 

Arriving at the flat, I started boiling some water to make mac n’ cheese and then opened one of the small plastic sachets I’d just bought on the marble counter before arranging the powder in a straight thin line and snorting it with a short straw I found in one of the drawers.   
At first, it burnt like hell, just like it always did. And then, it felt as if you had gotten brain freeze by eating ice cream too fast. When I was done cooking, the positive effects had kicked in and I finally felt poised, just like I always used to be. 

I had dinner in silence as I checked my twitter feed with the TV playing softly in the background. However, by the time I was done eating, my head was a whirlwind of ideas and I had to put them into paper before I forgot them.   
Hippocrates of Kos, an ancient Greek philosopher, was now best known in the area of medicine. But in the Hippocratic Corpus there’s a treatise called “Air, waters, places” in which the author stated that our climate defined our physical and mental characteristics. And according to him, Europeans were brave and strong, but inconsistent just like the weather. And although, I didn’t believe a single word of that, I just didn’t care because it made the perfect introduction to explain how the law of war originated in Europe.   
By the time Dave arrived, I had completed the introduction. 

“Good evening!” I hollered as Dave closed the front door behind himself. I stretched out comfortably before setting down my laptop for the first time that evening. “I’m in the living room.”

“Hello, love,” Dave smiled as he approached me, still taking off his jacket. He placed a quick kiss on my cheek before lazily sitting down on the couch the next to me and I immediately took the opportunity to rest my calves on his lap. “I didn’t expect you’d still be up.”

“I had to work on my thesis,” I replied while readjusting the cushions behind my back. My parents somehow had a talent to buy expensive, beautiful and extremely uncomfortable cushions.

“You’re okay?” He asked, staring down at me, appearing somewhat puzzled as he started giving me a foot rub. “You’re talking too fast and I can hear your heart beating from where I am.” He was now eyeing me closely and I was glad for the dim light and my dark irises for hiding my dilated pupils. 

“Yeah, I just had a red bull.” I replied, misleading him, brushing off his concern. Considering all that he was going through, I didn’t feel like adding another layer. “So, how was your day?” I wondered carelessly, before remembering something. “You did see nurse before going out, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dave replied, mocking me and I struck my tongue at him. “They called me from the office. They wanted help interviewing Nadia so I went over to the station.” He was speaking lightly, as if this was just chit-chat but he did seem worried. 

For a moment, I couldn’t remember who Nadia was but then I figured it must be the woman Dave had stopped from blowing up the train on 01/10. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a leave, though?”

“I cannot just lie back and do nothing,” David sighed before letting out a small groan as he leaned his head back, exposing his throat. “She didn’t identify Mahmood as the bomb-maker.” 

I took a few seconds to process his words. On the one hand, I knew this was bad news because the Police most likely had no other leads. But on the other hand, I had chatted to Mahmood a couple of times, and I never really believed he could have been part of something like that. “That’s good. It means the Home Office wasn’t infiltrated.”

Dave’s Adam’s apple bobbled before he spoke. “I think she was lying. Even in custody under police protection, she’s still afraid of her husband,” Dave said with honesty, before biting lip and unintentionally squeezing my foot. 

“I don’t think her being a woman immediately makes her the victim, David. Not every woman needs to be protected,” I blurted out softly, not thinking my words through before saying them out loud. “Maybe she’s not collaborating because she does believe in the cause,” I added, clarifying my previous thoughts. 

David shook his head softly, as if in deep thought. “I don’t know, love,” Dave murmured, conflicted. “I believe her.”

“Yeah, forget what I said,” I muttered casually before yawning with fatigue. “You’re the cop, so you’re better at this than I am.”

As we were heading to bed, I finally remembered to ask Dave to come to Julia’s funeral the next day but he refused, and I immediately regretted asking. Everything closely relating to St Matthew’s was a touchy subject for him.

\------

The next day, I woke up early after a good night’s sleep for the first time in a whole week. I took the time to take a long shower before doing up my hair in a bun and picking a black lace dress. I wasn’t sure I should even go. I had gotten my invitation at the office, but knowing she was alive turned all of this into a farce. I wondered if the coffin would be empty or if they’d put something heavy in it to give the illusion of a corpse. These thoughts made me shiver and I locked myself in the bathroom with another dose of the heavenly powder before my body could start shaking and freaking out again. 

I asked the guards to drop off Dave at the Police station before driving me to the funeral. As expected, there weren’t that many people and I still I was sure Julia didn’t like half of these people. I made my way into the church, just to see Roger Penhalington greeting the guests alongside Julia’s mom and I was glad for the drugs in my blood, otherwise I’d have thrown a fit. 

In what world, is the ex-husband considered to be mourning as much as the mother?! Julia and Roger didn’t even speak to each other, and when they did, it was more arguing than anything else. “Mrs Montague, Mr Penhalington, I’m so sorry for your loss,” I intoned when it was my turn. Julia’s mother nodded, but Roger seemed surprised at seeing me here. Hell, even I was surprised I showed up. 

After watching Julia’s empty casket being lowered six feet under, I was ready to leave this masquerade when Roger ambushed me, showing up out of nowhere. “Mr Penhalington, is everything alright?” I asked politely, faking concern as to put up a show for the people standing around us. 

“Did you happen to retrieve any of Julia’s personal belongings?” Roger asked in a low tone, seemingly agitated. When he noticed that he was fidgeting, he put his hands inside his trousers’ which made for a bizarre look on him. “Her handbag, briefcase or anything?” 

“No,” I replied hesitantly, furrowing my brows as if I was thinking it through. “I remember she left them in the side entrance’s anti-chamber at St Matthews, but I don’t know who retrieved those items. Why?” And just when I asked the question out loud, I figured it out on my own. He was looking for the kompromat.

“They’re of sentimental value,” he added, obviously disappointed by my lack of help, but at the same time, not entirely convinced by my answer. And then he left just as quickly as he had appeared in the first place. 

After the funeral, I decided to call Sara and meet up with her for some cocktails. She first made sure I was alright after the attack and then we began speaking about more trivial matters. “Actually, Cedric and I are getting married,” Sara announced proudly, before pointing out the new shiny ring on her finger and I felt bad for not having noticed on my own. 

“Oh my god,” I blurted out, genuinely happy for her. “Congratulations!” She hugged with such excitement that she almost broke me in half. “Do you guys have a date, yet?”

“Yes,” she replied before taking a large sip of her Margarita. “In exactly one month, in Cancun.” That was soon!

The truth is I didn’t meet up with Sara just to have a fun time. Roger didn’t believe a word I said, and I’m sure he had me followed when I left the funeral. Going back home in a hurry would have looked shady and suspicious, but going out with a friend? That doesn’t sound like someone who’s hiding something. 

A couple of hours in, I told Sara I needed to go home and work on my thesis. Once back at my parent’s flat, I went to retrieve my laptop and the tablet from their hiding spots, and finally found a place where to put them for safekeeping. 

“I’m walking to the library to do some research,” I announced to the bodyguards on duty, leaving the flat again less than ten minutes after getting there. 

For the first time, I was thankful for my father’s insistence on providing me with protection. Roger was a politician, the kind who do Politics not as a passion or as an end in itself, but as a means to access power and I knew well enough, that those were the most dangerous kind. 

As soon as I arrived at the law library, I retrieved a key to a temporary locker and put my coat and in bag in there. And then I headed towards the computers, needing to make time as to not make this visit to the library appear suspicious either. Especially, because the Police believed I had lost my laptop. I made a mental note to go buy a new laptop the next morning. It was what any normal student would do if they lost theirs. I stayed there for two hours, doing random law related research on the Internet without truly paying attention before heading back to the locker and picking my empty bag and coat. Making sure no one was looking, I hid the key in my bra.   
Outside the library, the guards were waiting to walk me back to the flat. 

When David got home, I was already asleep. Now that Dave was working again, even if only officiously, I didn’t know when he’d be back home. In fact, I barely saw him the next couple of days apart from in the mornings when we would both get ready for work. Surprisingly, I wasn’t too concerned. He texted me often enough to let me know he was okay and truth be told, working seemed to be a welcome distraction for him though I didn’t exactly know what he was doing apart from helping interviewing Nadia. Was he still in on some dubious business, like when he was spying on Julia? 

The next day, I stopped by an Apple store in the morning before going to work. At the internship, I was trying to figure out who exactly knew about the kompromat. Stephen Hunter-Dunn knew without doubt. That’s certainly what they talked about that morning at the hotel when Julia asked me to leave them alone. But did Mike also know? And what about Sampson? 

Dave sent me a text message, asking me to call him back as soon as possible and I decided to take my break sooner than expected. Alone in the breakroom, I called him back and he picked up after the very first ring, as if expecting my call. 

“Dave, what’s wrong?” I inquired in a hushed voice. Even though I was alone in the room, I couldn’t be sure they hadn’t bugged the entire building. 

“Someone came to Vicky’s work yesterday, telling her about us,” Dave snarled quickly, almost out of breath as if he was running. 

“But she already knew, so?” I was puzzled. What was David getting at?

“It’s was that man, Longcross. The one Julia with whom had a private meeting at the hotel once,” Dave explained. I remained silent and after a few seconds, I heard him sigh. “I know you were spying on me.” Yeah, that came as shock and I had definitely not been expecting that. How did he know?

“Look, Dave, I’m sorry. It’s, I don’t-” I was stammering. 

“No, love, it’s okay,” Dave jabbered. “Has Longcross ambushed you as well?” I could hear the concern in his voice.

“No,” I said honestly. 

“Good!” David breathed out with relief. “Stay with the guards at all times, please.”

I wanted to ask him where was and what he was even doing but he hung up before I had a chance to. Later that day, arriving at the flat after work, I realized we had been broken into. They left the apartment upside down but nothing was stolen because they obviously didn’t find what they came for.

“Miss, we need to call your parents and the Police,” the bald bodyguard announced, his cell phone already in hand. 

“Don’t!” I blurted out aggressively before recomposing myself. “That would just make them worry and this doesn’t appear to be anything else than a failed robbery attempt.”

David got home all wet that night, he had probably been outside in the heavy downpour. When I asked him what he had been doing, he just avoided the question. He appeared quite secretive these past few days. It started worrying me that with all this going on, we were still keeping secrets from each other and I sensed this would come to bite us in the ass. 

The next morning, Dave left early again. Something about searching Julia’s flat with DS Rayburn. So, this meant the Police knew about the kompromat but they didn’t know I had it. And considering, the secrets between David and myself, I wasn’t sure whether he knew I had it still. I texted Julia to let know the Police was closing in on the tablet business. 

The day was passing and David wasn’t answering to any of my texts, and even the Cocaine wasn’t managing to keep me calm now. At 11pm, I still hadn’t heard of David. All my texts were left unanswered and he wasn’t picking up the phone either. Just as I was about to take another dose to help me destress, there was a knock on my door. The Police. 

\---------

“Good evening, Alma,” DS Rayburn greeted me in an awfully neutral voice as she and DCI Sharma sat down at the opposite side of the table in the interrogation room. “Thank you for meeting us so late.”

“You didn’t exactly give me in an option,” I replied sassily, a big smile on my face, but on the inside I was screaming and crying at the same time. None of them seemed to take offence from my tone of voice. 

“Last time we met, you confirmed the relationship between yourself and PS Budd had gone beyond the professional boundaries,” DS Rayburn drawled, not really expecting an answer from me. “Was the relationship consensual or did PS Budd threaten you in any way?” Rayburn asked, and both police officers were now attentively staring at me. 

I just stared back at them, throughout confused. Were they insinuating David had forced himself upon me?! “Of course, David didn’t threaten me!” I blurted out, offended they’d even consider that. “Our relationship has always been consensual.”

“Listen, Alma,” DCI Sharma spoke almost patronizingly, his crossed hands on the table. “You’re either his victim or his accomplice.”

“The hell are you suggesting?!” I spat out, my voice raised but neither of them were intimidated. They left me a few seconds to recompose myself before Rayburn took a photograph from her file and showed it to me. 

It was a white male. I couldn’t even estimate his age because half his face was deformed with severe burn scars. “This is the shooter from Thornton Circus,” Rayburn explained. “Have you ever seen this man before?”

“Never,” I answered honestly. “I’d remember a face like that, certainly.” Sharma and Rayburn were both nodding softly, as if my answer had confirmed their theory. “Why?” I inquired, with curiosity. 

“This man is Andrew Apsted,” Sharma detailed but I cocked my eyebrows. Was I supposed to know that name? “He served with PS Budd in Helmand Province, Afghanistan, for two rounds.”

I remained silent, but internally I cursed myself. Why had David hidden this from me? And more importantly, why hadn’t I figured this out on my own?

“I wasn’t aware David knew the shooter,” I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. I was frankly embarrassed at my ignorance. Sharma and Rayburn looked at each other, making sure they were on the same wavelength before one of them said anything else. 

“We suspect PS Budd is involved in the St Matthew’s bombing,” Sharma put into words what we were all considering at that point and the accusation shocked me even though I had been expecting them to say it all along. Hell, for a few seconds I even wondered myself if David had anything to do with it, but I quickly brushed off that thought. There were lies and secrets between us, but I truly cared about him and I was deeply convinced it was mutual. He wouldn’t ever have deliberately put me in danger like that. 

“I cannot imagine for just one second that Dave had anything to do with that,” I retorted quickly but none of them seemed to care about my opinion. 

“We’ve been trying to locate him for a few hours now, but we’ve been unsuccessful so far,” Rayburn admitted with disappointment. “We never really suspected you of being involved, but we wanted to know if you knew where he was.”

“I don’t where he is,” I confessed, shaking my head in slowly. “I haven’t seen since this morning.” Technically I wasn’t lying, I simply wasn’t telling the whole truth. 

DS Rayburn and DCI Sharma let me go but asked me to let them know if I heard from Dave and not to leave London until this was over but I never had any intentions of doing that. As soon as I arrived at the flat, I used my iPhone to track down David’s. When I had handed him his cell phone, I never told him I’d activated this function. After all, it was only for emergencies and considering he had tried putting a bullet through his brain, my precautions didn’t seem exaggerated. 

To my disappointed and aggravation, I wasn’t able to find his current localisation. Most likely because the phone was turned off. However, the most recent one I could identify was some downtown bar two hours ago. Without giving it further thought, I made sure I still had the gun in my bag and retrieved a silencer from the freezer, before asking to be driven to that bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's me again. The next chapter will be the last episode of the season. I'm not sure yet if I'll have to break the episode into two chapters or not. Also, I've been coming up with a plot in case I decide to continue this story beyond the TV show.   
> As always, please let me know what you think and also if'd you enjoy a "sequel".


	9. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

I asked, or rather demanded, the guards to remain in the car. They begrudgingly complied to my orders although it was evident they felt nervous going against my father’s wishes. 

From the outside, the bar didn’t appear special in any way. Opening the door, I was asked to show my ID before I could enter and the moment I complied, I realized giving out my true identity could backfire. Truth be told, I was surprised they even let me in. I was wearing yoga pants with a black t-shirt, and for the first time in ages, my brown hair was tied in a ponytail. This was my out-of-my-mind worried look, not the going-to-a-bar-to-have-fun look. 

Inside, the bar was much more luxurious than I’d expected. The walls were of a rich, dark purple colour with golden frames. But most of all, the music wasn’t too loud and I was thankful for that.

I walked around the main floor, as if looking for a friend before sitting down by the bar. David wasn’t here. Now on the high bar stool, I saw stairs that led downwards to the VIP area but I’d have to find an excuse to go there. 

“Miss, what would you like to drink?” The blonde barmaid asked me with an American accent, interrupting my thoughts.  
I gave the bottles on the shelf behind the bar a quick look. “A glass of that old whisky, please,” I ordered, pointing at a brownish bottle. At this point, I didn’t know what to do so getting fucked up didn’t seem the worst of ideas. 

Within little more than an hour, one glass turned into five glasses and I was almost forgetting the VIP area downstairs. I tried to think of a way to get in there without anyone noticing but my mind was blank. “Chanel?” A female voice called out, abruptly bringing me back from my thoughts. 

I spun around on the bar stool to face her. It was another barmaid, in her early twenties which short red hair. “I’m sorry, miss,” the barmaid quickly blathered, her cheeks blushing. “I mistook you for someone else.”

“Don’t worry about that,” I grinned. This actually afforded me an opportunity. “Was it Chanel Dyson you mistook me for?” I asked as the girl made her way behind the bar and started mixing up some drinks. 

“Why, yes.” She seemed somewhat surprised but her answer made my blood boil. “Do you know her?” 

“Curiously enough, I was supposed to meet with her tonight but she’s over thirty minutes late.” I lied smoothly enough, sounding disappointed. Did Dave meet up with Chanel? And why didn’t he tell me about it? I hated Chanel, but I wasn’t the overly jealous kind, I wouldn’t have stopped him from seeing her or anything. 

“Oh, I’m sorry you missed her.” She said softly while adding different alcohols into the cocktail shaker. “She left early tonight, didn’t seem to be feeling well,” the barmaid revealed, oblivious to the fact that this was exactly what I needed to know. 

I quickly paid for my drinks before exiting the bar in a hurry. I was now feeling the effects of the alcohol on my balance and I regretted having been so careless. I took my phone from my bag and realized it was almost five in the morning and I was supposed to be at my internship at eight. I slid through my address book until I found a contact I had never paid much attention to and without surprise, she lived exactly where I expected someone like her to. 

“To the South Bank Tower, please.” Being a weeknight in autumn, the streets, while not entirely deserted, were relatively empty. Although the drive only lasted a few minutes, I had bitten through all my nails by the time we arrived. “Just wait in the car, please. I’m meeting with a friend.” I quickly exited the vehicle before they could protest. 

Now inside the luxurious apartment building, I took the elevator to the fifteenth floor and the soft elevator music was irritating me further, if that was even possible. Stepping out of the lift, I made sure there were no cameras before opening my handbag and taking out the gun with the silencer and finally ringing the doorbell. 

Chanel didn’t open the door right away and for a moment I worried I had the wrong address or that she wasn’t home. But at the same time, where would she be at five in the morning on a Thursday night?! Finally, she opened the door, appearing quite annoyed at someone showing up at this hour but her stance immediately changed when the cold tip of my gun touched her forehead. 

“Hello, Chanel,” I chirruped, a large smile plastered on my lips. “Aren’t you inviting me in?” 

Scared by my sight, she let me in silence and I locked the door behind ourselves, then putting the housekey in my bag. None of was leaving until I had what I wanted. I made sure to spot her cell phone on a small table by the entrance.

Now inside, I realized her flat was actually furnished to my taste. Lots of modern and dark furniture with glass details anywhere, but I wasn’t here to congratulate her on the interior of her home. “Sit!” I ordered, tilting my head at a black chair in the living room side of the loft. Chanel, still silent, stared at me with confusion for a few seconds before complying. 

I remained standing in the middle of the room. First, I was drunk and worried that if I sat down, I wouldn’t be able to get up without help. Second, I had no idea what the fuck people did after threatening someone with a gun. “Where’s David?” I queried aggressively, my gun still pointed at her but she was grinning now and I finally noticed the empty glass bottles on the floor next to the couch. So, we had both been drinking. 

“I knew you guys were fucking!” Chanel blurted out proudly in her nasal voice, as if she was the first one to figure that out. 

“At this point, everyone knows Chanel. That’s not impressive.” I said acidly, impatient. “So, where is he?” I insisted, tightening my jaw. 

“Well, Alma,” she slurred drunkenly, making my name sound like an insult. “He and I met for a few drinks,” she continued, still with that sassy tone of hers. “If you know what I mean,” she added with a wink before looking straight into my eyes, wanting to see me hurt. 

“Thank you for your candour, Chanel.” I tried keeping my voice calm, but it was taking all of my strength not to strangle her right now. “But I want to know where he is, nothing else.” I roared, my blood boiling but Chanel just leaned back against the chair, seemingly unafraid. Either, I wasn’t scary enough, even with a loaded gun in my hand or she was too drunk to realize what was going on. 

“Why don’t you check in my bed, Alma?” 

I shut my eyes tightly for a couple of seconds, biting my tongue until I could feel the taste of blood invade my mouth. I tried to remain poised, but I was mad now. Without a further thought, my arm drifted towards the kitchen and I removed the security before shooting at a picture hanging on the fridge, leaving it with a hole right where Chanel’s face had been. Hate and adrenalin made a good team, indeed.

I turned back to her, and noticed she was now scared. Good, she’d finally gotten the message, I thought drily. But somehow, she still didn’t seem ready to comply. Most likely, there was someone else involved she was even more scared off. 

“No worries, honey,” I finally spoke, stealing her sassy tone. “I’ve got all the time in the world.” I was lying, I didn’t and time was running out. But I didn’t know what else I was supposed to do. Shoot her, and then what? 

I hesitated about her tying her to the chair, but looking at her I doubted she would dare do anything crazy. Hell, Chanel was sobbing now and it was the first time she expressed her feelings without throwing a tantrum. The noise of her sniffing was driving me mad and I could feel the effects of the drugs dissipating but I hadn’t thought to bring any with me. 

I started pacing around the living room, my eyes on Chanel at all times. I tried calling Dave again but it went straight to voicemail. “Shit!” I thought about calling Vicky but decided against it. David would surely have told me if he was with her, besides it was too early to call her, I’d just wake up the kids. 

Trying to direct my thoughts elsewhere, I started rummaging through Chanel’s stuff, the gun still pointed at her head. Opening a drawer next to the TV, I was surprised to find sex toys. I mean, what freak keeps those in the living room? But then I noticed a pair of sturdy looking handcuffs with leopard plush and decided to keep them. After all, they might come in handy. 

A couple of hours passed and Chanel had stopped sobbing, but still wasn’t talking. Instead, her eyes were firmly set on the locked front door. Was she expecting someone?

“You know, if someone comes looking for you, I’ll have to shoot them.” I sounded standoffishly, but I was just exhausted. I kept worrying about Dave’s whereabouts and to make things worse, it seemed all this stupid act I had put would lead me anywhere. 

The clock was ticking and I was gradually getting more and more impatient. Should I kick her? Threaten her family? Shoot her on the knee? It was morning already and I still had no news about David. Was he dead? This was the first time I was considering that option and I swallowed my bile to keep me from crying. 

“I’ll take you to him,” Chanel announced out of nowhere. Her face was strained and the tears had dried on her cheeks. She looked awful but I was sure I didn’t look any better. 

Within minutes, Chanel and I were headed to the elevator, the tip of the gun touching the back of her skull. I couldn’t allow her to escape, not now. Not when I hadn’t heard from David in over twelve hours.   
We descended to the lowest floor, the car park. I made sure we were still alone before we walked over to her red BMW. Chanel took the driver’s seat and I sat down behind her, so I would be hidden by the tinted windows. 

In silence, except for Chanel’s sobbing, she drove us downtown, not far from the bar I’d been in earlier. “I’m sorry, Alma,” she whimpered before sniffing. Through the back mirror, I could see her puffy red eyes and actually believed her, but it didn’t matter. 

She parked the car in front of a building on Saltmarch Street. It was undergoing remodelling works but they seemed to have been abandoned long ago. Curiously, there was almost no one outside although it was Friday morning and the streets should have been full with fast-walking people. 

“I won’t hesitate to shoot, if you run.” I warned her, still in the car. She nodded with fear. There was no way I’d shoot her outside in daylight, but she didn’t need to know that. 

She led me to the building’s basement. The construction works had obviously stopped months ago. It was empty expect for some random wooden pallets and spider webs. I followed her inside but there was no sight of David. Chanel started crying harder as we were almost finished with our tour. “I’m sorry Alma,” she sniffed again before gulping. “They told me they’d leave him here after beating him up.”

So, there was no fuckery involved. This was much worse. “Who’s they?” I demanded with authority, paying attention to my surroundings and looking for anything that’d prove Dave had been here. 

“Luke Aikens,” Chanel admitted in a small voice. I didn’t know who the fuck that was, but she seemed to be quite afraid of him. Just as I thought we had been around the entire basement, Chanel stopped in her tracks and I almost collided with her. 

Confused, I pushed her out the way to see what was going on. There was blood. Blood on the wall and on the wooden pallets. I bit my lower lip to keep myself from yelling.

“I’m sorry,” Chanel bemoaned again but I didn’t care. I shook my head with agitation, trying to clear my thoughts but it didn’t work. I looked through my bag until I found the handcuffs I’d stolen from her flat. 

She was looking at me, too scared and too tired to say anything. I pulled on some metal pipes, to make sure they were sturdy. Luckily for me, they didn’t budge. “Come here.” I ordered coldly and Chanel complied, crying again. With shaky hands, I tied her wrists around the pipes. 

“Don’t leave me here,” Chanel pleaded and I genuinely felt distressed for her, but I couldn’t let her go. She was the only person who knew anything about Dave’s whereabouts last night and I couldn’t risk not finding her again. When she noticed I was really going to leave her in there, her expression turned into a cruel grimace. “It’s funny how it’s always women who harm other women,” Chanel spat out, her fears having shifted into anger. 

Without a word, I left her in there and walked through the maze this basement was until I reached the front door and found myself outside again, under the daylight. The streets remained extraordinarily empty and quiet which really made me believe something was wrong. 

I breathed out a few times, hoping it would calm me down before I typed Rayburn’s phone number on my iPhone and let it ring.

“Look,” DS Rayburn groaned into my ear, agitated. “I don’t have time right now.”

“The bomb-maker, it’s Nadia.” I announced out of the blue. “She’s the one who made the bomb for the Euston train and St Matthews.” I jabbered into the phone while turning on the engine. 

The line was quiet for a few seconds, but I could hear hushed voices in the background. “I don’t have time for your lies right now, Alma.” Louise growled. I was about to start yelling at her but then I heard someone shout my name through the phone. Was that Vicky? Why was Vicky with Rayburn? Immediately, I hung up on DS Rayburn and called Vicky instead. She picked up after the very first ring, panting.

“What’s going on?!”

“It’s David,” Vicky cried out before saying something else but I couldn’t make out the words. 

“What’s with David? Where is he?” I asked urgently as I could hear the background noise getting louder. 

“Pope’s Square!” Vicky shouted before someone took her phone and hung up on me. 

With trembling hands, I looked for Pope’s Square on Chanel’s Nav and realized it was just a couple of blocks away. Nervously, I started driving in that direction, thankful for the fact that Chanel’s car was an automatic. 

Just as I turned into the first street to my right, I realized there was Police barriers installed everywhere. “Fuck!” I hit the steering wheel with all my strength in anger, hurting my wrist in the process. “Fuck!”

Some people were asking to be let through but the Police wasn’t letting anyone inside. I backed away slowly before noticing an underground parking entrance about twenty meters away. Bingo! 

The fatigue now completely forgotten, I drove straight into the garage, taking a ticket before parking the car in the first spot I found, not bothering straightening it. My steps resonated on the concrete floor as I ran around, trying to find the pedestrian exit, hoping it would be within the closed off area. I walked up the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator and breathed out with relief when I left the garage and found myself close to Pope’s square, inside the security perimeter.

I started running around, using the noise as my only means of direction. Within a couple of minutes, I saw all the Police vehicles parked around Pope’s Square. 

“Back off!” One of the armed Police officers ordered me. Just then, alerted by the noise, Vicky turned around and spotted me. “Alma!”

Relying on the thought that the Police wouldn’t shoot at me, I ran up to Vicky. She was weeping as she pointed to the centre of the small park. I followed her finger and saw him. His face was bloodied, most likely from a nose bleed, and he was wearing an explosive belt, but it was closer to a vest. I wanted to scream, to shout or even cry, but I stood there looking at him with big eyes and no sound coming out my open mouth. 

Dave finally raised his eyes from the ground, and he saw me looking at him in fear. His face broke and I could see him bite his lip as not to cry. I wanted to let him know that I was not afraid of him, but afraid for him, but then DS Rayburn grabbed me the collar of my coat and pulled me back. 

“What on earth are you doing here, Alma?” DS Rayburn hissed. 

“David is innocent, he’s not the bomb maker. It’s Nadia!” I jabbered nervously as I caught another glimpse of David from afar. He was alone, bloodied and crying, and nobody seemed to care. 

“He’s wearing an explosive vest, Alma,” DS Rayburn said softly, almost condescendingly as she rubbed my arm. “He’s played us all, not just you,” she murmured, as if that would reassure me. 

As I was about to yell at there, DCI Sharma arrived and started talking to Dave on the radio. I quickly walked over to him. There was point in arguing with Rayburn. 

Dave was explaining how he’d woken up with the vest on after meeting with Chanel and being beaten up by Luke Aikens’ men. 

“He’s lying!” DS Rayburn spat out, looking at David with hate. “He’s been lying to us all along!”

“He isn’t fucking lying!” I interjected, tired of Louise’s behaviour. “Just ask Chanel Dyson, I could bring you to her!” DCI Sharma listened but didn’t seem to care all too much. I guess my credibility was very low right now. I was about to tell I had Chanel locked up, when David spoke again on the radio.

“His men, they broke into my flat. They tampered with my gun, the Makarov.” Dave insisted, his voice never faltering. “Just ask Vicky or Alma, they know.”

DS Rayburn was about to protest, but DCI Sharma decided to comply with David’s demand. “What is he talking about?” He asked us. 

“The other day, they went to have dinner at my house and he had that wound on the right side of his brain.” Vicky explained, not bothering to pause and breathe. We didn’t have that luxury right now. 

“That afternoon, I had gone to his flat and found him lying on the ground. He’d tried to shoot himself, but the bullets, they had been replaced by blanks,” I detailed Vicky’s story further. “Why would he have used a blank?” I asked rhetorically. “The only answer is that he didn’t know,” I added quickly. DCI Sharma nodded at us before talking on the radio again. 

“We’ve just been told you’re suicidal, and now here you are in a suicide vest,” DCI Sharma calmly spoke over the radio, distorting our words. 

“Aikens has the pistol,” David adds, pleadingly. “But I still have the bullets. That’s all the proof you need.” I dared looking at him again although I shouldn’t have. His arm, the one whose thumb was scotched to the switch, was trembling. Hell, his whole body was trembling because he was verge of crying. It simultaneously broke my heart and drove me mad. 

“We know you broke into Julia Montague’s flat!” DS Rayburn announced accusingly over the radio, having taken it from DCI Sharma without me noticing. 

Dave was slowly shaking his head, looking panicked before tears started flowing from his eyes. He explained through the sobs that he couldn’t trust Security Services so that’s why he had retrieved the kompromat. “It’s in my flat, in the downstairs bathroom above the spotlight.” Dave told DCI Sharma, who immediately asked for permission to search. 

I turned around, away from the Police so they wouldn’t see my expression. What was he doing? He didn’t have the kompromat. I knew it because I had it! I turned towards David again and saw him make a weird gesture I didn’t understand, but Sharma changed channels on the radio. 

“Tell the Police to hold back and not tamper with the apartment,” Dave asked Sharma, almost begging. I didn’t immediately understand what was happening until a couple of minutes later when the Police announced they had caught a man fitting Longcross’ description and that he was now in custody. 

Next to me, Vicky instinctively grabbed my hand and squeezed it, celebrating this small victory but I saw DS Rayburn order the XPO team to hold off and I knew this was far from being won. 

The radio emitted a small buzz and I heard Dave’s desperate voice again. “I don’t want anyone here getting hurt. My hand’s aching on the DMS,” David cried. “I want to talk to my wife, it’s maybe the last chance I get. Please.” 

DCI Sharma seemed to hesitate for a couple of seconds before handing Vicky the radio and teaching her how to use it. I removed my hand from Vicky’s and walked back a little, wanting to give them some privacy but it was of little use because the radio was turned on too loud. 

Dave was apologizing for having let her down. “I’m sorry I stopped being the man you loved because of what the war did to me,” David babbled rapidly, aware he didn’t have much time. Though his words weren’t directed at me, it broke my heart that even in such a situation, David still felt the need to apologize. “I failed as a husband and as a father, and that is the worst thing.” After those words, I forced my brain to lock out the rest of the conversation. I couldn’t take it, I wasn’t strong enough. But then Vicky handed me the radio and I stood there frozen. 

“Alma, love,” Dave said softly, as if trying to calm me down. Behind me, I could hear Vicky urging Sharma and Rayburn to help him. “I know you know I lied to you, but it was real for me. My feelings for you, they’re real.” Dave’s voice faltered and I swallowed the saliva in my mouth to keep me from crying as well. 

“It was real for me too, David,” I replied, hoping he could see me grin from the distance. “It still is.” DS Rayburn ripped the radio from my hand before I could hear David’s response. I wanted to throw a fit, but then I noticed one of the men from XPO walking towards David, protected by ballistic shields. Vicky had managed to convince them and for the first time, I found myself believing this might end well. This time, it was me who took Vicky’s hand and squeezed it. 

The examination was taking a long time and from the distance, I wasn’t able to hear anything which just added to my aggravation. How sophisticated was the bomb? Could it be diffused? Would David be okay? 

The man from XPO finally started walking back to us after around ten minutes but hearing David beg him to come back was too much for me and I couldn’t help the tears that escaped my eyes. 

Daniel Chung, that was the man’s name, went to talk with DCI Sharma and DS Rayburn. I wanted to listen in on them, but Vicky pulled me back abruptly. “I’m going there, Alma,” she announced with a determined voice and it took me a few seconds to understand what ‘there’ meant. 

“You cannot do that,” I blurted out when I finally understood. “If it goes off, Charlie and Ella loose both their parents. You cannot do that, Vicky!” I spoke quickly, reasoning with her and her face fell, realizing I was right. 

I was only able to hear Daniel say there was an extremely high risk of detonation, before Sampson took over the radio talk. She coldly asked Dave if there were other bombers at large, if other attacks were planned and who’d made the bomb, but Dave just kept shaking his head, saying he didn’t know. 

“I already told them, Sampson,” I interrupted rudely but we didn’t have time for niceties. “Nadia is the bomb maker, Chanel told me as much.” But just like the other Police officers, Sampson entirely ignored my words and asked for everyone to pull off. 

Understanding what those words meant, I almost fainted. I knew the critical shot was authorized but I didn’t believe they’d actually resolve to that until now. “No, this can’t be it.” I started weeping quietly. Sampson put her arm around me to bring me behind the fence but I knew what would happen if I did. Without thinking it through, I pulled away from her and started running to David.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! In the end, I decided to split episode 6 into two chapters otherwise it would have been too long. Let me know if I've lived up to your expectations so far!


	10. Chapter 9

Without thinking it through, I pulled away from her and started running to David. 

At once, everybody seemed to start shouting. An oral mess, a true cacophony, where you couldn’t distinguish a specific sound or even someone’s voice from another. That is except for David’s, his was limpid and I would have recognized among a thousand others.

“No, Alma!” Dave yelled desperately although I was now close enough to him he didn’t to shout. “What are you doing? Go back!” He kept on objecting forcefully but it was too late, I’d taken my decision. 

“I’m giving you a chance, David,” I panted, out of breath. “Critical shot had been authorized. I couldn’t risk it, I couldn’t lose you.” I said admitting the depth of my feelings for him out loud for the first time. “They suspect me too, but they wouldn’t dare shoot because my family would raise hell.”

Honestly, I couldn’t be sure of that. For all I knew, I was now living my last few seconds on earth. What if it’s worth it, though, I wondered. Dave was still silently gazing at me, with such intensity it seemed he was making sure this was real, I was real.   
And then, I heard Sampson rescind critical shot authorization and relief washed over me. David finally seemed to relax a bit before mouthing ‘thank you’ at me. 

I wanted to hug him, I desperately needed to take him in my arms and promise that everything would be fine, that we’d be okay. But I couldn’t and in the few seconds it took me to find the right words to express all that, David preceded me. 

“I love you, Alma,” David admitted unfalteringly, having now stopped crying. Without breaking off eye contact, he raised the radio to his mouth. 

“Budd to Sampson.”

“Sampson.”

“I’ll lead you to the evidence that proves I’m telling the truth,” David told Sampson, still looking at me, as if waiting for my consent. I nodded weakly. This was it, it was time to play all our cards. 

Silently, David turned his back to Sampson and most of the police officers and I followed him outside of the park, without looking back. In the background, Sampson shouted David’s name a few times, asking for him to stop but we never did. They’d have to work out a mobile containment and a safety corridor, but that wasn’t our problem now. 

“Help us out mate,” DCI Sharma’s voice came out of the radio. “Where are you going?”

“My flat. Long walk ahead.” David replied calmly. That was understatement. 

And so, we started walking, almost solemnly. It was indeed a long walk, David’s flat was nowhere near the city centre. My comfortable clothes would come in handy after all. 

“How are you?” I dared ask after almost half an hour of silence. I had kept replying David’s words in my head over and over again, just to be sure I hadn’t imagined them. I was having a hard time keeping up with Dave’s pace but I didn’t want to slow him down. 

“My hand’s in spasm,” Dave admitted, daring a small peak at me, looking pained. He knew our lives now literally depended on the strength of his thumb and fear was displayed on his face. I was scared as well, but if there was anyone I’d trust with my life, it’d be him. 

“I don’t have the kompromat,” he confessed, his brows knitted together. “I have the blank rounds but not the tablet.” He admitted in a low voice before looking up at the sky as if asking it for help. 

“I have it,” I replied softly, barely louder than a whisper. “I’ve had it all along, Dave. It’s safe.” And then, acting on instinct rather than reason, I removed the radio from David’s right hand and replaced it with my own, hoping I wouldn’t startle him and make him trigger the DMS. My small fingers slid between his, finding their place immediately as if they’d always belonged together. “It’s going to be okay.” I promised. 

After a few kilometres, David squeezed my hand before speaking again. “I’m sorry for spying on you, on Julia.” David finally confessed. “Craddock threatened Vicky, the kids. I had no choice.” I squeezed his hand back, letting him that was all water under the bridge. Maybe, we’d have to talk through that sometime but now wasn’t it. 

After a few hours, I eventually recognized David’s neighbourhood with all the grey, monotone houses. Although he no longer appeared as distressed, David was still shaking, his body undoubtedly tired of holding pressure on the dead man’s switch. I wished I could take over, but knowing that was impossible, I hoped that him knowing I was at side always, hand in hand, was encouragement enough. 

There were now police vehicles everywhere. And when we reached his block, I started seeing snipers placed at various vantage points, their rifles pointed at us. A shiver ran down my spine. We truly were considered the enemy. 

“I need you to go inside. It’s completely safe, Alma.” Dave said once we reached his front door and I nodded at his words. “Under the cupboard in the kitchen, there’s some rope-”

“What for?” I asked, interrupting him.

“And a spade.”

Slowly, I pulled my hand away from his and then quickly ripped off the barricade tape before hurrying inside. I was scared they’d shoot if I took too long. Luckily, the rope and spade were exactly where he’d told me they would be. 

I stepped outside and saw him breathing out on in relief. “What now?” I inquired, figuring out the answer to my own question after I’d said it out loud. Under David’s instructions, I tied down one end of the rope on the strong metal fence before letting myself slide down the concrete wall onto the graveyard. I started digging out the earth, completely ignoring the fact that I was in what some called a sacred place. 

“I think I’ve got it,” I hollered at David when I saw something different in the earth and kneed down to finish the job with my bare hands. “A black plastic bag?” I shouted, asking for confirmation. 

“Yes, that’s it, Alma,” Dave’s voice immediately replied. 

I let the shovel fall to the ground and tucked the plastic bag inside my coat so my hands would be free to climb up the wall. Dave’s gaze never let me as I climbed back up the wall, frankly embarrassed at my slow speed but he didn’t say anything. 

Once next to him, David thanked me again, squeezing my hand, before turning on the radio. “This is the evidence. The blank rounds that were smuggled into my pistol. They’ll proof organized crime were involved.” 

“Where’s kompromat?” DCI Sharma instantly inquired, still suspicious. 

I removed the radio from David’s hand. “I have it.” I announced and from afar, I could distinguish surprise on Sharma’s and Rayburn’s faces. “I’ll lead you to it if you agree to help David diffuse the bomb.”

Sharma and Rayburn seemed to be arguing for a few seconds, before he spoke again. “Come to us with the evidence and we’ll see what we can do.” DCI Sharma offered and I felt my blood boil within me. 

David grabbed my arm urgently, trying to reason with me. “I think you should go, love.” He murmured, his left arm now obviously trembling. I considered it for a few seconds but then shook my head. That wasn’t who I was. I always finished what I started and I wouldn’t change now, not when the life of the only man I’d ever loved was at stake. 

“I’ll come to you when Daniel Chung comes to us.” 

From the distance, I saw DCI Sharma and DS Rayburn conferring with each other before Chung joined them. Impatient, scared and running out of energy, David grabbed the radio. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold the DMS,” Dave admitted, pained as his voiced faltered. “This vest is crucial evidence. The others all got blown up. If forensics got a chance to examine this, it might lead us to the bomb maker, prevent further attacks.” 

I wanted to tell him about what Chanel had told me, about Nadia but it would take too much time and we were running out of it. 

“How do you know I’ll keep my side?” DCI Sharma asked out. 

“I’ve been a soldier, I’ve been a copper. You get to spot a bloke whose words he’s bond by.”   
DCI Sharma turned around to talk with his colleagues again. I was worried they’d decide I wasn’t worth the bother and they’d authorize critical shot again, but then I saw the robot approaching and my heart skipped a beat. Daniel Chung was ready to walk over. 

I turned to Dave one last time. “I’m going there, Dave,” I whispered softly, wanting to reassure him to the best of my abilities. “I’ll hand them the key, tell them where it is. And then I’ll come back,” I promised, a hesitant smile on my face but Dave didn’t return it. Instead, he started to argue against my last words, claiming that I should remain with the Police, but I cut him off. “We’ll do this, together.”

With those words, I spun around and walked over to the Police officers, slowly, trying to match Daniel Chung’s pace. I made sure Daniel was now in close proximity to Dave, before I allowed myself to walk the last steps. 

As soon as I was close enough, I gave Rayburn the plastic bag with the blanks. “Here’s the key,” I said, looking through my handbag and spotting my gun. I’d completely forgotten about it but it didn’t seem either Sharma or Rayburn had noticed. I handed the small silver key to Sharma who looked puzzled.

“I thought you had the kompromat.” 

“Not on me, I couldn’t risk it.” I admitted, impatient to get back to Dave. “The key opens locker 751 at King’s College main Law library. Inside, there’s the original tablet and my laptop which includes a copy of it.” 

“How can we be sure it’s there?” DS Rayburn asked suspiciously. She still didn’t like me, I thought sarcastically. I wasn’t sure I liked her either. 

“Dave trusted you, now it’s your time to trust me,” I spoke calmly. “Just sent someone to retrieve it.”

I heard David’s voice through Sharma’s radio, he was asking about Longcross. I was about to turn back and head over to David again when Vicky appeared out of nowhere, looking concerned. 

“Is he okay?” Vicky asked, worry all over her face as her brows furrowed when she tried to get a look at David in the distance. 

I sighed, before looking away from her. Truth is I didn’t know. He was tired and we could all go up in flames at any second. “He’s okay, Vicky. Don’t worry,” I replied, lying before pulling away from them. 

DCI Sharma called after me, asking what the hell I was doing. I didn’t answer, I didn’t know myself. When I approached David, he was already speaking with Daniel Chung through the robot. I inhaled and exhaled slowly, one last time, before kneeing down in front of David. 

“What are you doing?” Dave blurted out, not able to hide the fear in his voice. “You need to go, love!” His jaw tightened, the veins popping out in his neck as his left arm continued trembling. 

“You’re shaking, Dave,” I announced flatly before taking a look at the various tools displayed on the ground in front of me. “My hands are steady, I’ll do it.” I said, not daring a look at his face. 

I turned towards the robot to speak with Daniel. “Alright, what should I do, boss?” I asked lightly, trying to diffuse the tension though it was pointless at this point. 

“We’ll start by freeing his left hand,” Daniel’s voice explained through the radio. “Take the scissors. Use it to cut the tape over his thumb to create two loose ends.” 

Without losing any more precious time, I quickly grabbed the scissors and approached Dave. He was also taking long, deep breaths to steady his arm. As the scissors were now only a couple inches from his thumb, I looked up into his blue orbs and he looked into my brown ones. I wasn’t quite sure what we were doing, what we were both trying to express through a single gaze. Our affection? Acknowledge the fact that we might be dead in a few seconds? Or simply, that however fucked up the situation was, we were glad we were together in our possibly last moments? I didn’t know, and neither did he, and yet he nodded, and the scissors cut through the tape smoothly. Only now did I notice how cold his thumb was, blood flow was low. 

“Next, you’ll see a non-ferrous spacer,” Daniel spoke, and David and I looked at each other puzzled. “It looks like one of the pieces on a game of draughts.” 

With the detailed explanation, I immediately located the small black, round piece. 

“Set the spacer under his thumb while he’s sure to maintain pressure on the DMS trigger.”

My hands worked around his as precisely as possible, just like when you were a child playing Operation game. Carefully, I slid the spacer beneath David’s thumb until I was sure it wouldn’t fall out. His hands were almost purple now, I wasn’t sure whether it was due to the beating, the cold or the stress. 

“Being sure to maintain pressure, David, roll your thumb through 90 degrees so you can fold one of the free ends of tape down onto the spacer.” 

Realizing at Daniel’s words that my help wasn’t required now, I sat back on my heels, giving Dave the necessary space. “It’s okay, Dave,” I whispered, hoping my voice would reassure him. He tried as hard as he could to manage the trembling, and did a good job of that, as he followed Daniel’s instructions. Internally, I sighed with relief. 

“The next step is to roll your thumb in the opposite direction, over the piece of tape you’ve just secured, maintaining pressure. So, that you can fold the free end of the tape over the spacer.” Daniel instructed and Dave complied. The spacer was now attached to DMS with the blue tape but Dave was still applying pressure, his knuckles white. 

“If you’re sure the tape is secure, you’ll be able to remove your thumb.” Daniel’s words hung low in the air like the implicit warning they were. David appeared hesitant, not letting go off the DMS.

“You should go now, love,” Dave pleaded, his expression conflicted. He was holding the switch down with all the strength he had left in his hand, scared it would still go off as soon as he removed his thumb. 

I did the exact opposite I was asked to. Instead, I placed my hand around David’s, holding it steady before looking into his eyes. “I trust you, David. Just like you trusted me on the bridge all these months ago,” I spoke softly, a small grin slowly appearing on my lips and against my expectations, David reluctantly reciprocated it. “On one,” I announced before counting down. “Three, two, one.” And then, both David and I let go off the switch. 

And everything was silent, no explosion, no words, not a single breath until David groaned with relief, stretching out his stiff thumb. 

Daniel spoke again before I could come to terms with what just happened, with the fact that we were still alive. “I’d suggest applying another couple of loops of tape around to get the spacer 100% secure.” I did as I was told, feeling reassured by what just happened, my hands steadier than before. 

“David, normally the best approach is to neutralize the power source. But remember with the 1/10 device, Fort Halstead found it was rigged with multiple booby traps. When the power was cut, the control unit triggered the detonators.” My heart stopped a few seconds at Daniel’s last sentence. I didn’t know of that.

“I’m convinced this is the same kind of device,” Dave said in a grave tone, his Scottish tilt only magnified by the emotion. 

We heard Daniel exhale through the speakers. “Then Alma’s going to have to neutralize the control itself,” Daniel announced in an equally dramatic tone. “I’ve already removed the cover successfully but there may be hidden trip wires.”

At once, Dave lifted himself up on his knees to give Daniel a better view over the camera. 

“I doubt a device like this will be neutralized by cutting a wire. A shunt might work.” At Daniel’s words, I desperately tried to remember my electricity classes in physics I took in high school years ago, translating the words into Portuguese. 

“Hence the croc clicks and wires?” I asked for confirmation, just to be sure. 

“Yeah.” Daniel Chung replied. 

David and I both exhaled lengthily before my hand reached for the green croc clicks. “I’m going to disconnect the power supply,” I stated rather loudly, my eyes set on Dave’s torso. When nobody yelled ‘no’, I decided it couldn’t be an awful idea and to go for it. 

Now standing so close to him, I could hear his heart beating anxiously, matching mine. I placed my left hand on his warm shoulder to steady myself, before carefully pinching the metallic nubs with the clicks. Still silence, nothing happened. 

“I’m cutting through the first wire,” I declared again, listening to David pant and I stopped breathing. The wire split in two with a small cling, but other than that still silence. I resisted the urge to hug him with difficulty, but then I felt Dave’s hand snake behind my neck, bringing my face to his so we could share a quick kiss while maintaining space between our bodies. His lips were dry. It was the first time we’d kissed since all of this and it felt different, deeper though it was only just a peck.

“Put some tape over the ends,” Daniel ordered, interrupting our moment. Sighing, I grabbed the roll of black tape and started working on it. 

“Question for DCI Sharma,” David spoke, his breath making the skin on my neck tingle.

“Go ahead.”

“Any news on Longcross?” David asked, sounding nervous. 

DCI Sharma took a few moments to reply. “Very sorry, David, he had to be released.” Sharma announced apologetically. “But we’ve managed to retrieve the tablet and the laptop.”

David’s body tensed with anger. “Is that it?!” He blurted out, his voice too loud next to my ears. “He just got away with it, scot free?” Dave ranted, incredulous. I was just as mad at these news, but this wasn’t the time. 

I grabbed his hand, softly applying on it. “Hey, hey,” I whispered, trying to regain his attention. Within a couple of seconds, Dave was looking at me, tenderly. “We’ll deal with that later, David,” I promised softly and he nodded. 

“I’m going to cut the second wire!” I warned loudly, hoping that everyone, even the snipers could hear me.

“Everyone should get as far back as possible!” David, shouted, his voice louder than mine. He stood up and I immediately did the same, impatient to get out of this uncomfortable position. 

In the back, I could hear Sharma yelling for everyone to back off and take cover.

“You’re ready?” I inquired one last time, knowing my question was pointless. No one would ever be ready for something like this, and yet, we had no other choice. 

David was too tall now for us to comfortably keep eye-contact, standing as closely to each other as we were. I wouldn’t have dared either way. If things went wrong, I didn’t want my final memory to be the last look of fear crossing his eyes. And so, I kept my eyes on his fast-beating chest, slowly sliding the red wire between the diagonal pliers’ teeth. And then, I cut it, just like that, my eyes tightly shut. And nothing happened. 

Nothing expect for Dave who abruptly picked me up without a warning before jumping down the concrete wall into the graveyard. Sharma started shouting angrily, telling everyone to go after us. Still confused, I stared blankly at David as he swiftly removed the explosives vest and threw it away before grabbing my hand again and starting to run. 

I wanted to ask what the fuck he was doing, but I was quickly out of breath from the running. He never let go of my hand although quite obviously, I was holding him back. Soon enough, we got closer to the centre and David slowed down to a brisk walking pace. We stopped in a deserted alley so I could use some scented wipes I kept in my bag to clean off the blood from David’s face. It was nearly 6pm and the streets were full with people who’d just gotten out of work. 

“Where are we going?” I inquired softly, afraid random people could be listening in on us even though we were walking on the sidewalk, hand in hand just like any normal couple. 

“To Chanel’s flat,” Dave announced, staring straight ahead as he stretched out his neck to look over the masses around us, being sure the police weren’t there. David’s hand was tightly wrapped around mine, as if he was scared to lose me in the crowd. 

“She’s not at home,” I said out of the blue, making him stop abruptly to look at me, puzzled. “I locked her up in that basement on Saltmarch Street,” I admitted, barely a murmur. For some reason, that made Dave scoff softly. 

We turned right on the next corner, changing our destination. It all felt surreal. David and I, walking and holding hands in the streets of London, like a random couple shopping around. And yet, we weren’t shopping, no, we were headed to where he had been dressed in an explosives vest and I had locked a girl a few hours later. 

“I have a gun, a Smith and Wesson,” I stated, as we were now only a couple of blocks away from the building. I thought Dave would chastise me for walking around with an authorized weapon, but if anything, he seemed to approve. 

“How many bullets?” He inquired, his voice as light as if we were talking about trivial things, like grocery shopping. 

I stopped walking for a few seconds, thinking about it. “Five.” Dave spun around to face me, his brows knitted together. “Chanel’s refrigerator,” I admitted, somewhat embarrassed. 

We reached the building and I led him inside the basement, through the maze, until we reached Chanel. She was sitting on the ground, looking pathetic as she slept until our steps woke her up. 

“Oh my god, you’re okay!” Chanel blurted out, her voice impressively loud considering she hadn’t drank anything in hours. 

I wanted to punch her in the face. The way she falsely showed concern for David after she literally drove him into this mess, got me mad. “Like you give a shit!” David spat out before I handed him the keys to unlock the handcuffs. “Cooperate.” He ordered as he opened the cuffs and she immediately started rubbing her wrists. “You’ll get immunity witness protection, you’ll be out.” 

“You phone Luke,” David ordered, his jaw clenched tightly as he pulled her up to her feet. It was the first time I’d seen him be anything less than perfectly delicate with a woman. “You tell him the inside man’s gonna talk, he’s gonna want to silence him and then he’s gonna lead me straight to him.”

David held on firmly to Chanel’s arm as we exited the building straight to her BMW which now had a parking ticket. I took the driver’s seat turning on the engine. David stayed on the backseat with Chanel, making sure she didn’t try anything stupid. I looked at him through the mirror with a small smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes: It was the first time I was in the front and he in the back. 

Silently, I drove us to Luke’s address. Nobody said anything, this had been a long day and everyone was exhausted. I parked the car and Chanel called Luke, following David’s instructions to the letter. Within seconds, Luke was exiting his house, followed by a man, most likely his guard. 

I made sure to always keep a couple of cars between the silver Range Rover and ourselves. They were headed to Mayfair and traffic was still crazy until we reached a more residential area. 

Their car came to a stop in front of a brick house on the left side of the street. I parked Chanel’s vehicle a few houses down, on the right side. David exhaled heavily. “Alright, I’m going in.” He announced as he grabbed the door handle. Instinctively, I did the same. “No, you stay here with Chanel, David objected and my face fell. He was probably right, though, I didn’t know how to fight and someone had to make sure Chanel didn’t run away. 

“Take the gun,” I ordered, looking through my back in the passenger but David had already exited the car. “Fuck!” I groaned with frustration, kicking the wheel. Chanel looked as if she was to say something, but then reconsidered and kept her mouth shut. Smart girl. 

I started counting the seconds and then the minutes in my head, at least three minutes had passed. I tried listening but her expensive car was well isolated and I couldn’t make out a sound. Until I heard a gunshot resonating in my ears. 

“No, no, no,” I started murmuring, jabbering in panic, tears pooling at my eyes, as I grabbed the gun with shaky hands. David didn’t have a gun, I thought in hysteria so the shoot couldn’t have come from him. “You stay here!” I ordered Chanel as I opened the door, hoping that my voice was authoritative despite the sobbing. 

I ran to the house as fast as I could, and found Luke, Craddock and Dave by the garage door. The former one was on his knees, hands above his head. Thank god, no one appeared to be hurt. But then Luke’s guard behind Dave got up, ready to attack David from behind and without a second though, I hit the back of his skull with my gun. The tall man immediately fell unconscious to the ground. Everyone turned to me and I gave David a tentative smile but he didn’t reciprocate it. His eyes, they were blank and David was far, far away. And then he turned to Luke again, the gun pointed at his head. 

“Did you plant the bomb?” David asked through his clenched teeth.

“It was business,” Luke replied boldly although he was obviously in the weak position at the moment. 

“Why?” David asked again, his voice now sounding more animalistic than human. 

“Just good for business. Nothing personal.” 

David started shaking at Luke’s words, not with fear, no. With anger and bottled down rage which had finally been set free. 

“Nothing personal? Alma almost died!” David accused, his grunt gradually turning into a yell as he spoke. Despite the darkness, I could see his finger twitching, ready to pull the trigger at any moment. 

I walked over to him, praying that my sudden movement wouldn’t startle him and make him shoot. “David, David,” I whispered, looking up into his blue eyes but his gaze was fixated on Luke. Slowly, I snaked my hand around David, my fingers softly brushing his skin. “Don’t shoot, David. He’s not worth it.” I didn’t know what would happen after all of this was over, but if David killed him, that would be a straight ticket into jail and I couldn’t tolerate the thought of that happening. 

“Call this in before I change my mind!” David ordered Craddock who immediately complied. 

\-----------

Numerous Police cars arriving soon after. Their sirens were too loud and their lights too bright, and everything was blurry. It all seemed to go down in slow-motion. First, they yelled at all of us to drop to our knees. And then they approached us, guns in hands before handcuffing us. David was brought into a different Police car. We both started yelling, protesting loudly at being separated but no one cared and the sound was muffled even in my own ears. 

I was driven to the SO15 Station and once there, they let me take a shower, under a female officer’s surveillance before handing me fresh clothes. The fabric was rough, scratching at my skin but I didn’t complain. 

I was led to an interview room where DCI Sharma was already waiting for me. I was asked once again if I wanted a solicitor and I refused that offer, just like I had the other time. He asked me about kidnapping Chanel, about carrying an unauthorized weapon, about having had the kompromat, about previously lying to them to help out David. I even told him about Julia being alive.   
As I gradually answered the questions, I started doubting I’d get out of this without jail time. But then DCI Sharma declared that I had been a victim tangled up in all of this and that I was free to go. 

I exited the room and then walked through the long corridor. Wondering about how I ought to contact Dave since I had no phone anymore. And then, I walked past an open door before realizing David was in there, with Rayburn. 

He was clean, the wound on his eyebrow patched up and he appeared okay, at least physically. I let out a small squeak which alerted him of my presence. Before I could move, Dave’s arms were around me, hugging me tightly against his chest, lifting my feet off the ground. I finally let out the tears I had been holding on to for hours. 

Dave didn’t pull back even though my tears were wetting his sweatshirt. Instead, he walked us inside the room where he’d been with Rayburn when I’d seen them. Silently, he sat down on one of the chairs in front of the screens before pulling me to him, so that I was sitting down on his lap. Although his warmth now engulfed me fully, I was still trembling. A combination of fatigue, lack of cocaine, adrenaline. But then David hugged me tighter against his chest, and I had no more room to shake, no more room to panic. 

DS Rayburn apologized, stretching out her hand for me to shake, and I did. 

Then, we watched Lorraine Craddock being interviewed through the computer screens. She admitted everything: That Luke Aikens had recruited Andrew Apsted. At those words, Dave rested his chin on the top of my head, holding on a sob before I started drawing shapes on his palm with my thumb. We were okay, that’s all that mattered.   
Craddock then went on admitting she’d appointed David as Julia’s PPO because he’d make the perfect fall guy. I looked at Craddock with such hate through the screen, ready to strangle her had she been standing in front of me. And then, she said she hadn’t provided the information for the Heath Bank attack. David’s heart skipped a beat at her words. 

“If she didn’t do it, who did?” DS Rayburn asked emptily into the room. 

“Nadia,” I said out of the blue. “She made the bombs and I wouldn’t put it past her to attack a primary school.”

\-----

Ten days went by since the assassination but they were all blurred together. It seemed as if time had stopped existing. Mom had flown over from Lisbon, but I couldn’t look her in the eyes. Each time she hugged me, I had to fight off the urge to pull away. Somehow, I couldn’t tolerate physical contact anymore, it made me anxious. David was the only exception. 

I accompanied him to the safe house every evening to visit the kids. I would just sit down on the sofa and stare at the three of them blankly. It’s not like I had anything else to do, anyway.   
Although it was now common knowledge among the Police force that Julia was alive, the news still hadn’t been broken out to the public. I had no internship anymore and couldn’t focus on research.   
And then, after a few days, David and my mom finally allowed me some alone time. I went to my flat but all I could concentrate on was the useless stuff I kept. The pearl earrings, the scented candles, the beautifully assorted cups and it drove me mad. I threw them all against the walls, cutting my hands in the process but I felt no pain. 

And then I went outside, walked over to the small supermarket, bought breakfast necessities and a little extra. And then things started getting better again. Mom didn’t notice I was doing cocaine again, she never did even when I lived under her roof.   
Neither did David. After all we’d been through, he was just happy to see me happy. And I felt the same way, slowly starting to grin as I watched him play with Charlie or help Ella with her homework. 

Nadia Ali was finally interviewed. At first, she played dumb but then she admitted to working with ‘non-believers’, aka Luke’s men to plant the bomb at St Matthew’s and having built all the bombs, just like I’d told the Police. 

For some reason, that interview seemed to shut down the door with the past. To put an end to all the madness we’d been through, at least in theory. In reality, David’s nights were plagued with nightmares and mine with insomnia. 

We were now in the waiting room. David’s fingers were drumming on the chair’s metallic armrest. He was obviously uncomfortable and I couldn’t blame him. The room was barren except for a few chairs, a coffee table with old magazines and some hideous light blue curtains. The drumming sounds was driving me mind, I carefully grabbed his hand before kissing it. That seemed to calm him down. 

“Mr Budd,” a dark-skinned woman in her late thirties called out, bringing us both back to the here and now. Dave didn’t get up immediately, instead he turned to me, a mixture of worry and fear on his face. I nodded softly before reminding him I’d wait for him. 

And then he got up, following the therapist into her office. With all my heart, I hoped that this would help him get better, because I was crumbling into pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this concludes the storyline of the show. I hope you enjoyed reading this and must as I enjoyed writing it :) I've decided to try writing a sequel and will start posting it as soon as possible.


	11. Chapter 10

4 weeks later 

“So, this is Cancun,” I chanted after exiting the cab, Dave right behind me. He was looking around himself like a child at Disneyland, and who could blame him considering the tons of bikini clad girls who were walking just past us. 

“Wow, it is beautiful,” Dave eventually said, a wide grin stretching out on his face. But he wasn’t looking at the other girls around us, he was looking at me with his bright blue orbs and I caught myself blushing, even after all this time. 

Dave insisted on carrying his own suitcase but I let the bellman take my luggage inside to the lobby. I had to admit, that in one week only, Sara had managed to select the perfect hotel for her wedding reception and being the bridesmaid, I had convinced myself that I couldn’t possibly stay elsewhere. So, here we were, inside the Hyatt Ziva Cancun Hotel.  

“You wait here,” I excitedly ordered Dave to sit on one of the sofas in the reception area as I went to do the check-in. Just about a fortnight ago, he told me he had never been outside of Europe. He and Vicky even only spent honeymoon in Paris. And after all we had been through, he did deserve to enjoy himself. 

The lady at the reception desk was all smiles and I even tried speaking Spanish with her. It did work to a certain point, but then the shortage of vocabulary became evident and I changed back into English. “The champagne is in an ice bucket by the Jacuzzi and there are green grapes, right, not purples?” I asked one last time, just to be sure everything was alright and that I wouldn’t have an allergic reaction.

“Yes, ma’am,” the young lady spoke in perfect English. “The suite’s just like you asked for.” I had to resist clapping my hands with excitement, knowing that would just be silly and childish. 

Walking back to Dave, I noticed he was in the middle of a phone call but right about to hang up. “Yes, Vic, I’ll have fun. You take care,” Dave hummed before hanging up and putting his cell phone back into his pocket. “I’ll all yours now, love,” he whispered cheekily, getting up as I grabbed his hand and dragged him to our suite. 

\-----

The water was the perfect temperature, the sunset was impressive as it always was around here and I was in the most comfortable cocoon, my back pressed against Dave’s torso, my body pleasantly imprisoned between his legs. 

For the first time since we’d entered the tub, Dave set down his glass of champagne and his arms hugged me from behind. He rested his chin on my shoulder and somehow, after all these hours spent in an airplane, he still smelt heavenly. “Would you also like to have something like this?” He asked thoughtfully after a while, his Scottish lilt resonating in my ears. 

“Something like what?” I inquired with curiosity, though admittedly I was only half-listening to his words, instead taking in how perfect this moment was. After all the blood, the bombs and the adrenaline, we were finally here. We were together, alone and at peace, and I instinctively knew deep down that this was a moment I’d cherish forever. 

“A crazy, party wedding like this,” Dave clarified, his light stubble rubbing, or rather scratching against my skin. Noticing that, Dave quickly placed a kiss on my cheek as if to protect it from any possible harm. And for whatever reason, the ridicule of the situation and his words make me laugh out loud. 

“Gosh, no, David,” I chuckled, throwing my head back against his chest as he involuntarily tightened his hold around my waist. “I don’t even want to get married.” I confessed, saying those words out loud for the umpteenth time and although I had believed in them for years, I started doubting their accuracy. Only fools didn’t change their minds, right?

“Really?” Dave wondered, laughing quietly behind me. He did seem somewhat surprised by my answer and it made me wonder why he had even asked the question in the first place. 

“Well, yeah, I think,” I sputtered, rather hesitant. “But if I did get married, I’d like it to be somewhere lost, cold and quiet,” I blathered, speaking just as I thought about it for the very first time. “Like in some small fishermen’s town right by the Tierra del Fuego in South America. Ushuaia, maybe.” I now scoffed at my own silliness but Dave remained serious, contemplative even. 

“I did not expect that,” he articulated slowly and I could imagine the way his jaw was moving without even having to look. “But that does sound more like us than a beach with lots of topless women.” I joined him in his laughter, but inside, all I could think about was the fact that he used ‘us’ and not ‘you’. 

“So, hum,” I started hesitantly before mustering up enough courage. “You and I, it’s serious, then?” I asked with a small voice, feeling embarrassed about talking about our relationship out loud. 

“Well,” Dave chortled and I felt the contractions of his chest against my back. “I did follow you to Mexico, and I am getting too old for random flings,” David spoke in earnest, even if he did add some humour. 

“I agree that you’re getting old,” I said amusedly, biting my tongue and Dave faked being offended for a few seconds. “But I did bring you as my plus one, so I guess that means we’re serious.” 

And somehow, that seemed to end the conversation. We remained in the warm water until the sun had set and darkness surrounded us. We made good use of the King size bed before joining Sara and Cedric for dinner at the restaurant. David seemed to be slowly becoming at ease around them so I felt comfortable enough excusing myself to use the powder room in the most literal way. 

After dinner, we decided to take a walk around the beach, just the two of us, before heading to bed, jet-lag having exhausted us. The temperature was perfect, neither too hot nor too cold. That summarized quite well the past month. Neither happy nor sad, neither exalting nor boring, it wasn’t anything special, it just was. I had never lived with someone until Dave, and surprisingly it was neither as difficult as I had expected, nor as exciting as Sara has described her life when she had moved in with Cedric. Christmas had come and gone, with neither snow nor sun, almost like a mirage. 

Dave appeared to be getting better, slowly but steadily. He met with his therapist every two days and took a couple of pills every day to help with anxiety. It warmed my heart when I observed him peacefully sleeping at night or laugh out loud when playing with the children.   
He thought I was seeing my psychiatrist as well, everyone did and sometimes, I managed to trick myself into doing it. But mostly, I went to my old studio thrice a week, got high and then rode it off walking to my parents’ flat which was now ours. I knew I was a fraud but I didn’t want to stop, those three days a week were the only ones where I’d be able to sleep. 

“Is that guy you were in your flat with when I showed up, going to be here for the wedding?” David asked out of the blue, with a light voice. 

My brows furrowed at that question, trying to remember who he was talking about. “James, you mean?” I wondered and Dave grunted in assent. “Yeah, most likely. He’s friends with Cedric.”

“Were you two dating?” David inquired in his low voice, the waves in the background almost drowning it. “Before everything, I mean.”

I laughed out loud before stopping on my tracks and going tiptoes so I could kiss him. “You were my first real boyfriend, Dave.”

We peacefully walked back to the hotel, hand in hand. The next day, David and I rented some jet-skis and then went diving with an instructor. It was fun and we enjoyed ourselves. And yet, there was this gloomy feeling in the horizon, at least in mine. Back in London, I had envisioned Cancun as a fresh start after all the chaos, and yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more an end than a start. Just like when you were a child and got a helium filled balloon. And as soon as you started walking away from the stand, the string would slip out of your palm and there it was, the balloon you’d been asking for all along, moving further and further away, until it was gone, gone and not coming back. But you could still jump and try catching it, right? Right?

The bachelor and bachelorette parties were taking place that night, in the club where Cedric and Sara had met five years ago. I was strapping on a pair of high heels when Dave stepped out of the bathroom, buttoning up his grey shirt. 

“You know, you’ll probably be the only one in a shirt,” I chuckled before taking a few steps to make sure the straps weren’t too loose or too tight. Dave smiled a little, before walking over to me and enlacing his arm around my waist and taking my left hand in his right one. And although there was no music, we started rocking around slowly. 

“I’ll never understand your friends,” David whispered and I shivered, not sure if it was due to his breath on my skin or his deep voice, or maybe both. “They’ll be wearing suits for a cocktail in the afternoon and then a white t-shirt to go out at night. Where’s the logic?” 

“There’s none,” I admitted, after considering it for a minute. “And there’s no reason for you to dress as they do,” I continued, as if talking to myself rather than to him. “Dress however you want and be yourself. That’s how I fell for you in the first place,” I whispered before biting my lip, feeling somewhat embarrassed each time I shared my feelings. 

“Why don’t we just have a quiet night, instead? Just the two of us?” David suggested, his grip on my waist just a tiny bit tighter before his hand slowly slid down until it was on my haunch. I chuckled at his urgency though I felt the same way. 

“I’m the bridesmaid, it’s my most important obligation to be at the bachelorette party,” I refused his offer kindly. “But do hold that thought.”

\-------------

Just as expected, the club was loud and overfilled. I felt that the fast-moving neon lights could me give a seizure at any time. David and I had parted ways at the entrance, him heading to Cedric’s area and I to Sara’s. I hoped he’d enjoy his night and it reassured me to know that most male guests were about his age. 

Just as expected, there were male strippers and Sara was gifted with all kinds of kinky presents, mine included. At first, I felt awkward and uneasy as we sipped our overpriced cocktails and talked about trivial matters I didn’t care much about anymore, like Dolce and Gabbana’s new collection or the new measures against tax evasion. And then I wondered what wasn’t trivial and couldn’t come up with an answer. It was as if I didn’t belong there anymore but then as the alcohol started showing its effect. I started enjoying myself and loud music became more tolerable. 

I couldn’t help but laughing out when one of the exotic dancers started giving Sara a lap dance before she accidentally dripped her cocktail onto his back and insisted on cleaning him up with some napkins. 

“I need to tell you something, Alma,” Sara whispered into my ear anxiously, a few minutes after the incident. 

“You’re not having cold feet, are you?” I inquired suspiciously, that was something I wasn’t prepared to deal with. 

“No!” She blurted at once before, before lowering her voice again as she spoke into my ear. “I’m just nervous. I mean, I’m supposed to go on having sex with that one dick for the rest of life.” Her crude words made me laugh until I was in tears. 

“But, it’s a good dick, right? I asked in the same tone, trying to suppress the laughter that threatened to erupt again at any time. Sara quickly nodded, a small smirk on her face. Oh, she was so drunk already! “Then why are you worried?”

“What if it stops working?” Sara blurted out, horrified at her own thought. This was too much for me and I couldn’t help but choke on my drink. 

“Well, then you would have the right to take an Oliver Mellors.” I said as seriously as I could manage at this point before trying to wink and failing miserably. 

That seemed to reassure her and she quickly left me on the couch to join some other guests on the dance floor and make a fool of herself. I stayed back by the table, thinking about texting Dave to ask how it was going since I couldn’t spot him through the crowd, when Emilia, I think, sat down next to me. 

“You’re Alma, right?” She asked, the words slurring in her mouth and I nodded, confused. “Sara told me you might want to go the powder room with me?” I was confused for a second before I found Sara in the crowd, properly winking at me. 

I quickly followed Emilia to the bathrooms which were a lot cleaner than I’d expected. It was probably due to the high entrance fee. Without losing any time, she stuck her hand inside her bra before taking it out again, this time with a small plastic bag. I kept the door shut while she snorted a line, and then she did the same for me. Just as the power started reaching my sinus, I noticed at once this wasn’t just cocaine and didn’t go through it, leaving almost the entire line on the counter. 

Just as I was raising my head again, to get a good look at myself in the mirror and ask her what the fuck that was, Emilia put her hands on my neck, drawing me close and kissing me on the lips. Now, I remembered who Emilia was! We had gotten drunk together at Sara’s birthday party a couple of years ago and well, the pictures I had found in my phone the day after, spoke for themselves. 

On instinct, I kissed her back a couple of seconds until the first surge of the cocaine subsided and I realized what I was doing. Carefully not to hurt her, I pushed her back and saw how red her eyes already were. “Sorry, I’m not in the mood for that right now.”

I quickly exited the bathroom, desperate for some fresh air. Outside, there was a breeze but not strong enough to make me feel cold. I inhaled and exhaled slowly a couple of times, trying to calm down. I had been done with those crazy nights for months, almost a year, and I didn’t want to fall back into those habits again. 

Suddenly, there was a hand on my shoulder and I instinctively pulled away before realizing it was Dave. “Gosh, you scared me!” I sighed with relief before hugging him out of nowhere. 

“Are you okay, love?” Dave asked with concern as he put his finger under my chin and slowly raised my head so he could get a proper look at me. I knew my eyes would be red but considering the faint smell of alcohol on his breath, I didn’t expect him to notice. “Did you take something?”

“No,” I lied before deciding to come clean. “Yes, or at least I was going to,” I admitted, my hands fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt but he kept on staring at me with those deep blue eyes, waiting for me to continue. “I thought it was just coke, but then there was ecstasy too, I think, so I didn’t.” I only noticed what I had confessed to once my words were out of my mouth and immediately regretted it. 

David was still gazing down at me, his brows knitted together with worry. “Do you take cocaine, Alma?” He murmured with surprise, brushing a few wild strands of hair away from my face and I now had a perfect vision of him. He didn’t seem angry, worse than that, he appeared disappointed. 

“No, only every once in a while at party. Don’t worry about it.” I quickly lied before untangling myself from him and rapidly walking away from the club, towards the beach. David quickly caught up to me, not even slightly out of breath. 

“Where are you going?” Dave inquired, equally confused and curious when the sand beneath our feet was quickly becoming softer and softer as we neared the water. I stopped just inches away from the water before looking around to make sure we were alone and started taking my clothes off, one by one. 

David was still staring at me but was no longer confused, instead, he seemed to be enjoying the show, a smirk on his lips. And then, when I had nothing else on but my panties, I walked into the water until it was deep enough that I could dive into the ocean. The water was as lot colder than I’d expected, and when I resurfaced, my skin was in goose bumps and I had to contract my muscles to keep my teeth from chattering. “Remember that thought you had earlier?” I asked, cocking my eyebrows in an attempt to disguise my uncomfortable state before taking off my panties and throwing them at him, missing him by a mile.

Dave scoffed but did start taking off his clothes. I turned around and started swimming, hoping that moving would keep me warmer. It was dark, the moon not providing for much light, but I was quite sure I would find the cavern with Sara’s instructions. Once again, David quickly caught up to me, but that wasn’t very surprising because I’d always been a slow swimmer. 

He placed a cold hand on my back, and I felt my entirely body freeze, before retorting by splashing some water on his face but he didn’t seem to bother by this. Soon enough, the rocks to our right started getting bigger and bigger, until they were about 5 meters wide, and we started swimming in that direction. 

Once there, I tried climbing up the rocks but I wasn’t strong enough. Chuckling at my failure, David pulled himself up with nothing but the strength on his arms before helping me up as well. And there it was, the cavern Sara and Cedric had spent their first night in and I was sure they weren’t the only couple in Cancun to do the same. 

Not missing a beat, I pulled Dave inside the cave with me and started kissing him passionately. First his torso, where the small hairs were epoxied on his skin by the water, and then, standing on the tip of toes, I went higher until I was able to reach his lips. Just like mine, they were purple and cold, and yet still the best thing I had tasted. David moaned against my lips before kissing me back, his hands on my nape to bring me even closer to him. Almost immediately, his right hand slid down my wet body until it reached my bottom and squeezed my flesh, making me shriek with surprise and David chuckled lightly at my reaction. 

Soon enough, he pushed me against the wall and the rough texture of the cavernous wall rubbed against my back and cut through my skin, but I didn’t care. All I cared about were David’s lips on my cold nipples and his fingers in my hollow. A moan escaped my throat but there was no one there to hear it except for us. 

Before long, that too wasn’t enough and I pulled his face up so I could kiss his lips again. Although I was always so careful with such matters, I decided hormonal protection would be enough this time and I let him take me then and there. Roughly pounding into me against the rough wall until I could feel blood droplets dripple down my back. 

I was sure that the next day, the skin on my buttocks beneath his hands would be bruised, but ever since St Matthew’s these were the only moments when I felt like I was living instead of just surviving and these were well worth a few bruises here and there. Especially when just like now, I could feel the muscles of his back contract beneath my hands and listen to his groans next to my ear. And just then, did I really feel alive again as bliss washed over me, removing the ashes from my skin. 

\----------------

The next day, at the wedding, I had to wear a shawl over my strapless dress to hide yesterday’s evidence. We danced, drank and laughed. And yet, there nostalgia and melancholia in the air. It felt like that autumn afternoon you rode your bike to the park with your friends and played together outside, and although you didn’t know it yet, it was the very last time and soon everyone moved and nothing was the same again. Regardless of the jet ski rides, the sun tanning or the dinners, soon enough the song ended, the glasses were empty and the jokes died. 

And just like that, the last day of our holidays had come. The flight was in three hours and I was still in bed, among the white sheets and pillows. David had gotten up early, to go for a run and was now packing his suitcase. Last night, just like every night with him, had been awesome and I never wanted to leave the bed just to have that blissful feeling linger a little longer. Every day, it became harder and harder to shake off the feeling that we were fleeting away from each other. After all, we had so little in common, but then, night would come again and everything would be alright once again. 

“Why don’t we stay a couple more days?” I suggested, groaning and stretching out my body, almost giving myself a cramp on my leg before an idea popped into my head. “Let’s go to Buenos Aires!” I nearly shouted. “What do you think?”

David scoffed, as he zipped his suitcase closed before starting to get dressed. “I have responsibilities, Alma,” he chuckled as he pulled on some clean jeans. “I need to go back to work.” I had forgotten about that. His leave ended the day after tomorrow and he was going back to being Julia’s PPO, who was now Prime Minister. What a hard crash back into reality, I contemplated drily. 

“Just give them a call,” I suggested sneakily, finally exiting the bed and starting to pack my own stuff. 

“Sorry, love,” he replied in the other side of the room. “I have things I need to go back to.”

I walked to the bathroom and combed through my hair with the hairbrush I thought I’d lost, I couldn’t help but to roll my eyes. “Always those responsibilities,” I murmured to myself under my breath, sarcastically. 

“What did you just say?” David inquired from the bedroom, as if daring me to say it louder. I looked at his reflection through the bathroom mirror in front of me, and noticed he was staring right back at me, unnerved. And although I should know better, my relationship with dares hadn’t changed. 

“I said that if you have all those responsibilities, it’s because you decided to take them up,” I said blankly, still brushing through my hair whose tips had dried out because of the saltwater. 

“What do you want me to do, then?” David groaned angrily, and I averted my gaze but didn’t move. “Stay here with you, lose my job and leave Vicky alone with the kids?!” He was shouting and I closed my eyes tightly, my hands curling around the sink’s porcelain until my knuckles turned white. 

“Well, if you had been doing normal stuff at my age instead of starting a family, you wouldn’t have to worry about that now, would you?” I shouted back, acidly and regretted my words instantly. Biting my tongue until I tasted blood, I slowly turned around to face him and apologize. But it was too late, the moment had come and passed, and the balloon’s string had slipped away from my hand. 

“At least I’m not like you,” Dave spat out with contempt, standing next to the window, facing the outside instead of me. “At least I’m not ruining my life, doing cocaine!” 

My heart stopped for a moment and I leaned against the doorframe for support. “I’m not ruining my life, David,” I said softly. “I’m coping with it.” But somehow it seemed my words hadn’t reached him and he was frantically packing the rest of his belongins into his backpack. 

“You’re right, Alma,” he blurted out, still not looking at me. “You’re not ruining your life. No, you are ruining other people’s lives.” His words had me confused for a moment. “Just like Julia, you’ll be in Parliament in a few years, deciding to send people off to war while your ass is comfortably sitting in that velvet chair.” 

“Don’t you dare compare me to Julia!” I shouted back, finally exiting the bedroom and looking around for some clothes to put on, feeling too naked for this conversation all of a sudden. 

“You’re not Julia, you’re much worse.” David chuckled with resentment, still packing. “At least she thinks it through. You’ll be snorting cocaine and not even realizing you’re sending out people to be killed in Afghanistan.” 

I sighed, exasperated. Here we were. Honestly, I should have seen it coming. I would have hadn’t I been so blindly in love. He hadn’t forgotten about the file he had found next to my bed all those months ago and we had never discussed it again. If our first fight had to be about anything at all, I supposed this was it. 

I was trying to put my thoughts into words, when Dave walked past me, his suitcase rolling behind him. “What the hell are you doing?” I blurted out, puzzled but he didn’t turn back.

“I’m leaving, Alma,” I heard his voice through the corridor, no longer able to see him. 

“You walk through that door, and I’m not coming after you!” I warned him, trying to get dressed as quickly as possibly but then the door opened and closed, and just like the helium balloon, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, it’s me, again!I apologise for this shitty chapter. I rewrote this chapter about five times, and it hated it more and more each time, and in the end, decided to go back to version 1. Post-traumatic depression was very difficult to write. Somehow, it took an entirely other atmosphere than I’d expected in the beginning but their break up was necessary. For now.   
> Next chapter picks up six weeks later.   
> PS: Having watched Lady Chattley’s lover starring Holliday Grainger and our very own Richard Madden, I couldn’t stop myself from including the small easter egg.


	12. Chapter 11

“Miss Guinness, would you say that RIPA-18 is the solution to the security problems the UK is facing?” The interviewer asked, sitting in her blue sofa before crossing her legs. We were on live TV and although a minor BBC Channel, I wasn’t keen on making a fool out myself. 

“No, it’s not.” I said truthfully and she tilted her head, somewhat surprised. “RIPA-18 isn’t the heaven-sent solution, far from it. But given the current circumstances, it’s the necessary weapon to fight the terror.” 

“Did the traumatic events you lived through while working as PM Julia Montague’s intern make you change your opinion on the RIPA-18?”

What an understatement, that was! They had done so much more than influence my mind on a fucking bill. For starters, I had become the shadow of my previous self. “Not really. I’ve always believed that the ends justify the means. The only difference is that now I know for sure which one is the lesser of two evils.”

“Can you elaborate on that?” 

I sighed internally before wetting my lips. “Surveillance is not something you should wish for but it still is better than walking around the streets of England fearing for your life.” I explained, trying to stop myself from trembling. “I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather have the Police listen to my kinky phone conversations with my boyfriend, than dying in a Euston bound train.”

Marla Mitchell seemed to consider it for a few seconds, before bobbing her head slightly. “For the past month, you’ve been answering questions on your blog about the RIPA-18.” I nodded. “Is that a partisan action? Are you supporting the PM’s agenda?”

“PM Julia Montague and myself no longer work together in any way. The only goal I pursue with the blog is helping as many people as possible make the right decision in three weeks.” 

After all the chaos in the British government due to the leakage of the kompromat and the even bigger chaos when Julia rose from the dead, she decided RIPA-18 shouldn’t become law by a vote of Parliament but that it was a subject so sensitive, it needed a referendum. In all honesty, this was a smart move on her part. After all these men had fallen for various scandals, she had risen from her ashes like a Phoenix and made herself appear the saviour of the British democracy. Organizing a referendum only increased that perception. I knew better than to believe that storyline, however. 

But I was happy for her. And for David, too. I was happy they had managed to survive through the gruesome events and had come back stronger than before. I hadn’t, I was too weak for that, but that didn’t matter anymore. Nothing much mattered anymore. 

\------------

“Tu étais formidable, j’étais fort minable,” Stromae’s voice blasted against my ears, louder than the doctors allowed me to. But that too didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was the pain that shot through my shins and knees each time my feet hit the ground. There was also poignant ache beneath my ribcage that I so loved every time I started running without warming me up. 

And I jogged through the streets of London, a couple of hours after midnight every night, pushing myself faster each time the pain started subsiding and it no longer was enough to keep the thoughts out. It was the only way I could find a few hours of sleep every day without tossing and turning endlessly. Without playing out the different scenarios in my head. 

I wished I had nightmares. Instead, I couldn’t even fall asleep. The different storylines followed each other, back to back, in my head until I felt it would explode. First, it was David dying at the Thornton Circus attack, shot in front of my eyes as his blood splashed on my skin. Then it was St Matthews, still his limp body still holding mine prisoner, instead this time it wasn’t his body but his corpse. And finally, I saw myself cutting through the wire on Dave’s vest and killing him with me, in front of his wife. 

And the only way to avoid that every night was the powder and the running until I was feeling as dead outside than I already was inside. Only, tonight, cocaine wasn’t an option so I ran longer, farther until I had left behind the London I was familiar with. And then started the monotone, grey houses in long lines. The images of the horrible, stressful walk flashing in front of my eyes and then my shaky fingers diffusing the bomb. It made me want to run away as far as possible. But at the same time, I felt the need to spot his shape through the window, watching TV or talking on the phone, and just make sure he was alright. But the light was out, the blinds was drawn and he wasn’t there, and I wasn’t even sure I was either. 

And I ran back home, my lungs burning through my chest. Every once in a while, there would be a man wandering around alone. Months ago, I would have been wary and would have kept my cell phone in my hand, just in case. But now? No one could do worse things to me than I already did to myself when my mind wouldn’t stop. I wasn’t scared anymore, at least not for me. 

I got home so late it was time to take a shower and start getting ready to go to Court. Today was day three of Nadia Ali’s trial. Given the delicate subject, it was held within closed doors. However, today I would take the stand and testify. Was I nervous? Only that I wouldn’t be able to control myself in front of her and try to kill her with my bare hands. 

I put on a dark green tailored dress, knowing very well that the appearance of a witness influenced their credibility in the eyes of the jury as much as their words. And I exited the white flat, into the garage and drove myself. I passed through St Bartholomew’s Hospital where David had had surgery after St Matthew’s and my chest tightened, and for a second I couldn’t breathe as if I was living through it all over again. But then the Central Criminal Court appeared in front of me and there was nothing I wanted to do more than to put that bitch in jail. 

\------------

They sat me down in the witness stand, facing Nadia and her lawyers. Then, they swore me in. “I swear by Almighty God that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.” I repeated, taking the oath. I had been offered to make a secular affirmation instead of taking the oath but in the case of a religious jury, it would diminish my credibility. 

“Please state your full name, date and place of birth as well as occupation,” the old judge asked. 

“My full name is Alma Carolina Guinness. I was born on June 13th, 1996 in Beirut, Lebanon. I am currently a student and a teacher’s assistant King’s College Law School.” And there she was, small and silent between her lawyers, as if she was a victim and not a killer. Every time I looked at her, my blood started boiling, and I decided it was better to look elsewhere and keep cool, than ruin her prosecution.

And with that, the questions began. I was interrogated about anything and everything, whether directly relevant or not, but I was prepared for it. Then, came the cross-examination by one of Nadia’s lawyers. 

“On November 2nd 2018,” the middle-aged lawyer stated, his too fat belly barely fitting within the gilet. “You told members of the Police numerous times that it was my client, Nadia Ali, who was behind the bombs. Is that true?”

“Yes, that is true.”

“On what knowledge were you acting upon when you openly accused my client of that crime?”

“Chanel Dyson told me as much, implicitly.”

“Can you share her exact words with us, Miss Guinness?”

“Yes, she said to me: It’s funny how it’s always women who harm other women.”

“That is a very vague statement, indeed,” the lawyer comment lightly, facing the jury, though it was all part of his act. “What made you think she was talking about Nadia Ali?”

I rolled my lips between my teeth, with contempt. “At that time, it was thought that PM Julia Montague was dead. To me, it was obvious Chanel was making a reference to Nadia Ali having made the bomb which was thought to have killed Julia Montague.”

“But Chanel didn’t say ‘woman’, she said ‘women’. Can you share with us in what context Chanel Dyson spoke those words?” The lawyer insisted confidently and I sighed inwardly, carefully keeping myself from rolling my eyes. 

“She uttered those words when I was tying her hands to some pipes in the basement of the Saltmarch Street building.” I admitted, it wasn’t anything everyone didn’t know already in this courtroom. 

The defence attorney nodded a few times, looking satisfied. “What made you lock up Chanel Dyson in that basement?” The prosecutor immediately objected to the question, doubting its relevancy but the judge overruled it and I had to answer. 

“I locked her up because I was looking for PS David Budd, without success, and Chanel Dyson was the only person who knew something of his whereabouts.” I knew from here on, it would all go downhill. It had to give to her, Nadia Ali did know how to choose her lawyers. I would have been impressed if my hatred for her didn’t run so deep. 

“So, you were ready to and actually committed a felony to find PS David Budd,” the lawyer rephrased but he wasn’t asking a question. He was crumbling my credibility to pieces. “If you were ready to go through such lengths to find him, why should we believe you wouldn’t have lied about Nadia Ali being the bomb maker in order to help PS Budd. After all, he was the main suspect at that point, wearing the explosive vest.”

I looked at the balding man in front of me with disdain. Had I been in his shoes, I would have gone through the same line of questioning to discredit my testimony. But I wasn’t, and he was the enemy. 

“The important thing is not what I could have done, it’s what I did do. Or rather, what I didn’t do. And I didn’t lie, I acted on a belief installed in me by Chanel Dyson.” I answered, knowing my reply was only just borderline acceptable. “Besides, Nadia Ali later confessed to it herself, after her DNA was found on the vest PS Budd was wearing.” I retorted, cocking my eyebrow. 

“Miss Guinness, our client is not contesting the DNA findings on the vest or her having been in contact with it. We are contesting the accusation that it was Nadia Ali who build the bomb.”

“It’s a bit late for late, isn’t it?” I asked sassily, smirking, entirely out of place as the judge stroke his gavel, warning me. “Nadia Ali confessed to having built the bomb when interrogated later by DS Rayburn.”

“At that point, my client had been detained for almost an entire month and had just been accused by a British young woman of the upper class and who was being considered the victim. My client, Nadia Ali, a Muslim woman, a non-British citizen, believed she would never be able to fight off your accusations so she confessed in the hopes of getting a lesser sentence.” 

I had to look down at my hands to keep myself from laughing out loud. Making privilege play a role in all of this was absurd and the lawyer knew it just as well as me. And the both of us knew, absurdity didn’t matter as long as it helped you win the case. 

My testimonial ended soon afterwards. There were no more questions and I had no more answers. I was being led to the side door to exit the courtroom when the main door opened, letting in the next witness. And then the judge spoke. “PS David Budd, please proceed to the witness stand.”

I turned my head, wanting to get a good look, make sure he was okay, but the Police officer accompanying was too large and I had no line of vision. 

Once outside the courtroom, I started pacing through the hallways. I needed to see him, talk to him, apologize to him. Where should I even begin? “Sorry for having insulted your life choices where they’ve obviously been better than mine?” “Sorry for lying to you about my unhealthy coping mechanism?” “Sorry for believing that certain dire situations require war?” 

My mind was a real whirlwind and I decided to head to the main floor and grab myself some snacks and an Ice-tea to calm down. I had been questioned for over an hour although I had never even personally talked to or seen Nadia. David would be there for much longer. Sighing, I sat down on one of the hallway benches on the second floor, head pressed between my hands as I tried coming up with the exact words I’d say to him:  
“I’m sorry for insulting and lying to you, David. I really regret my words. I’m not sorry for my opinions and for believing in international non-pacific dispute resolution mechanisms. I am however sorry for what war did to you.”

It wasn’t perfect, it wouldn’t ever be because life wasn’t perfect: Coffee cooled, ice-cream melted and sometimes words weren’t enough. But this would have to do. And yet, the more I thought about it in my head, the more agitated I became and soon enough my hands were sweaty. Exhaling deeply, I decided to go the ladies’ room and freshen up. I washed my hands for an entire minute before drying them up on my dress. The noise of hand dryers was too loud for me. Using my elbow to open the door, I left the bathroom just to walk straight into a torso. A male torso. David’s torso. What a timing.

“Hey,” he said softly, his hands on my shoulders. “Are you okay?” I slowly raised my head to look at him. He looked concerned at first, his brows furrowed over his blue eyes, but then it slowly shifted into surprise. I supposed he wasn’t expecting to collide with me in a courthouse. But it wasn’t just surprise, it went beyond that. 

“Umm, yeah,” I breathed out slowly, shaking my head to clear my thoughts. His warm hands were somehow still on my body and this unexpected closeness was messing with my head. “Actually, I was wondering if we could talk?” 

David stared at me for a few moments, his jaw muscle tensed. He looked good, smelled heavenly, clean shaven and well dressed. And I had almost forgotten that I’d asked a question when he slowly nodded, his facial features relaxing. “Aye, of course.”

Silently, I turned around to open the door to the bathroom and David followed me in. Granted, it wasn’t the ideal place but I didn’t exactly want to talk about it in the corridors and inviting him for a coffee felt weird. Like this didn’t, I thought sarcastically but kept my mouth shut. 

Dave closed the door behind himself before leaning his back against it, arms crossed over his chest. His posture has me uneasy and my heart was beating too fast, and I just stood there awkwardly in the middle of the small room, fully aware he was staring at me. “You wanted to talk, Alma?” David said, raising his eyebrows, after too much time had passed.

“Yes, I did,” I stated bluntly, pinching my lips between my teeth, trying to remember the words that I had memorized just minutes before, but now Dave was here, not even a meter away from me and I couldn’t remember them. “So, how’s Charlie adapting to his new school?” I asked randomly.

His brows arched but his expression was unreadable, and he seemed to consider my words for a few seconds. “He’s enjoying it. He has already made some new friends.” He went back to gazing at me intensely and I still couldn’t guess what he was thinking about. 

“That’s great!” I exclaimed, a little too quickly and a little too loud. “I’m glad to hear that, David.” I bobbed my head slightly, punctuating my words but all I could focus on was the side grin he was now sporting. 

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?” He inquired lightly, finally uncrossing his arms. No, that wasn’t exactly the conversation I had had in mind, but now that my wit has unexpectedly abandoned me, I simply nodded. 

David finally detached his back from the door. He was leaving and I had just wasted this occasion, I thought drily. But instead of opening the door, David bridged the gap between us in just one step. At first, I could see nothing but his buttoned-up black shirt that covered all but a small patch of chest hair and the way his heart seemed to be beating fast. And then, I slowly lifted my face to look at his. His blue eyes were darker than I remembered and I could imagine the smoothness of his skin on my fingertips just by staring at it. 

“Alma, did you real-” But his voice was interrupted by the deafening sounds of gunfire. Plural. 

At once, my vision blurred just seconds before my hands went cold and my legs gave in under me. Dave managed to catch me before I could fall to the ground and hit my head. I vaguely felt Dave lay me down on the floor before hearing him move and then a clicking sound. He had locked us in. 

“Alma!” He called my name, urging me to look at him. I was about to when a high-pitched alarm started ringing and it became even worse. It felt as if I was drowning in the ocean except all I could see was Julia’s in her blood covered suit, David’s ash covered body and the fucking explosion, those images moving so quickly they blurred in together, and under the pressure, I started sobbing and the shaking intensified. Everything was so very black and so very bright at the same time. And I couldn’t make out if there was a loud stringent noise or just complete silence. It was like when a drop of water touches your finger and you can’t decide whether it’s burning or freezing, you only know that it hurts. And everything hurt. 

I was panting but then I could vaguely make out a noise in the distance, it seemed like David was cursing. David! I internally yelled, opening my eyes all of a sudden and looking around for him frantically but everything was blurred and I couldn’t see him. “David!”

“It’s okay,” his voice breathed out heavily just before I felt his chest against my back and his arms around my body. Uncertainly, I touched his hand with mine, scared it wasn’t there and I was just imagining it, and he was dead, and Julia was dead, and everyone except for me. But it was there and it was warm, and suddenly, he was holding both my hands tight between his and I was locked in his arms. “It’s okay, love,” he repeated and I dared rest my cheek against his chest. “Everything fine,” he whispered, his Scottish tilt reshaping the words and I finally convinced myself he was really here. 

I tried to block the deafening noise out, focusing on his heartbeat instead. It was fast, thunder-like but still slower than mine was, and slowly, as my heartbeat started matching his, my vision cleared and I focused on David’s hands and how warm they felt around mine. Then out of nowhere, his phone started ringing and he cursed under his breath before his right hand left mine to grab the device from his pocket. 

It was Louise Rayburn. I was close enough to hear both sides of the conversation but I wasn’t sure I should. “Listen Dave, I don’t know how but some of the Police officers in the courthouse turned out to be with Nadia and they started shooting around. Nadia used the opportunity to escape. The courthouse has gone under lockdown, but right now down we don’t know if she’s managed to flee and who’s still there.” Rayburn spoke so fast, I barely kept up. 

“You can’t be serious, Louise!” David blurted out angrily as he unconsciously held me tighter against him. 

“I’m sorry Dave. Keep tight, we’re doing what we can.” David hung up before throwing his phone against the wall and cursing loudly. 

“Fuck!”

His voice startled me, even though the alarm was still blaring. Noticing that, Dave hugged me again with both his arms. I was finally processing Rayburn’s words and the trembling picked up again. I knew David had his gun, I had seen a glimpse of the holster beneath his blazer. 

“You’re not going out there, are you?” I asked after a few seconds, scared by the answer I’d receive and then even more scared when he didn’t replystraightaway. 

“No, love. I’m staying with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not exactly happy with how this chapter turned out. But at the same time, the events had to play out like this for the purposes of the plot I have imagined. I'm also not satisfied by the ending, but writing it, it felt like the right place to end the chapter.


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! I'm sorry this chapter took me so long. I'm finding it a lot more time consuming and difficult now to write beyond the show's storyline because I actually have to pay attention to the plot haha.   
> As always, feedback is very appreciated :)   
> Hope you enjoy it!

“How could this happen!” David yelled, anxiously running his hand over his wild hair. “Shouldn’t this be the most secure trial in history?!” Deepak Sharma pulled slightly away from David, his ears probably bothered by the yelling. Mine would have been too if they weren’t still ringing. 

“There were more Police officers in that building than at the bloody Buckingham Palace!” Sharma yelled back once David had stopped shouting and had sat down on a table. “Each of those had been vetted under the tightest scrutiny.”

Dave’s face contorted at those words before rubbing his temples. “How many?” He asked at last but the room was immersed in silence except for the rubbing sound of the emergency thermal blanket around my shoulders. “How many were with them?” David asked desperately. 

“Out of the eighteen inside the courtroom, twelve,” Louise Rayburn stated calmly but her words were far from producing that effect on David. His knuckles were turning white from clutching the table’s edge so hard. 

I tried thinking about the information that had just been shared but it felt like I wasn’t really there. It was if as it was a just movie I was watching on my couch, slightly tipsy. But when I focused hard enough, through all the tranquilizers I had been given, the words slowly started making sense in my head. “Who died?” I inquired after a while, and they all turned to me, looking surprised, having most likely forgotten I was even there in the first place. 

At once, Dave left the table and walked over to where I was sitting on an uncomfortable chair. His hands slid inside the foil and started rubbing my shoulders. “Don’t worry about that now, Alma,” he murmured in his Scottish tilt. “You should go rest,” he insisted, his voice ever so low, and yet, it angered me all the same. 

“I’m not fucking leaving, David. I’m not a porcelain doll,” I yelled, and David pulled back instinctively as if he had been burnt, his hands leaving my body at once although that hadn’t been my intention and I immediately longed for his touch again. I sighed deeply, closing my eyes for a few seconds to calm down. “Who died?” I asked once again, looking at Sharma and Rayburn. 

They both looked down at me, with pity, which only disgusted me. And then Rayburn shook her head slowly, uncrossing her arms before humouring me. “The judge, two jurors and two Police officers.” 

I took a few minutes to process those words but I could hear the three of them talking again in hushed voices in the background. Five people. Five lives had been lost while I was fucking locked in a bathroom having a panic attack. I was horrified, but most of all disgusted at myself. Had this all been my fault? Slowly, I pushed the blanket off my shoulders, feeling too hot all of a sudden. “I’ve been receiving death threats.” I announced solemnly in the barren room. 

At once, all eyes were on me again and three of them immediately broke up their circle of secret discussions. Sharma dipped his head, appearing puzzled. “Ever since I created that blog and started appearing on the media, I’ve started receiving death threats,” I explained steadily although I felt like crumbling to pieces. “Many through email, but some in letters.”

All three of them remained there, plastered in the middle of the small windowless room as they gaped at me blankly. “You’ve been getting threats and didn’t think of telling me?!” David blurted out, pacing around the room before punching the white wall and leaving behind a red spot. 

His reaction made me laugh out loud, most likely because of the meds. “I wasn’t going to call my ex to tell him that I was getting some creepy mail.” I retorted amusedly, trying not to laugh. Rayburn and Sharma were now talking between themselves, ignoring our exchange. 

“Aye, Alma. That’s exactly what you should have done!” David sat back down on the desk by the door, far away from me. I wanted to say something, but DS Rayburn beat me to it. 

“What did those messages say, exactly?” Rayburn asked, squatting in front of me like I was some child. I avoided her gaze, all their gazes, looking at the white door instead.

“They urged me to close down the blog and stop doing interviews, otherwise, well. I mean, I called them death treats for a reason,” I replied unwaveringly until I spotted David’s Adam apple bobbing from my peripheral vision. “I didn’t say anything because the threats were only directed at me, not at my family or friends.”

Louise Rayburn nodded slowly, before standing up at full height again. She asked me for my phone to have a look at the emails, before exiting the room, Sharma following closely behind her. I wondered whether I ought to say something to diffuse the tension between us, but David’s phone started ringing and he picked it after the very first ring. 

“Hey, Vic,” he spoke as soon as the phone was pressed against his ear. “Stop worrying, Vic. I’m fine. How are the kids?” 

I wondered whether his family had been moved back into the safe house, but it somehow felt out of place to ask. Were we still friends? I observed him silently as he talked on the phone, taking in the way he would frown every once in a while, horizontal lines appearing on his forehead. Or when he was talking to the kids and his face would relax at once, as a smile crept upon his lips. Most of all, I listened to his voice without paying attention to the words but simply letting myself be lulled by his Scottish accent. 

Suddenly, Rayburn and Sharma walked back into the room and David quickly ended the phone call. “We have had a first peak at the emails,” DCI Sharma announced, his tone fully professional, “and we’ve decided that the safe thing to do is to bring you to a safe house outside the city until we find Nadia and the other perpetrators.” 

I cocked my eyebrows at the Police officers, very obviously displeased but not surprised. This was exactly why I hadn’t told anyone about the threats. Once again, my freedom would be ripped away from me. “Where are you taking her?” David inquired immediately, concern in his voice and a feeble grin appeared on my face. He might not love me, but he still evidentially cared about my safety. 

“Avebury, Wiltshire,” Louise Rayburn spoke and I didn’t even know where the fuck that was. I had only moved to the UK a year and a half ago, and hadn’t been outside of London in that entire time. For all I knew, that could be the next town and all the way up in Scotland. “But you’re coming too,” she added.

“Why is he coming too?” I interjected, questioning the decision. On the other side of the room, David looked just as taken aback but he had remained silent. 

“If the courthouse shooting was targeting you, why didn’t they do it while you were testifying?” Sharma asked rhetorically and I had to admit that he did have a point. “At this time, all we know is that they singled out the only day you were both testifying.”   
\-------

“I wasn’t informed you were going to dye my hair on top of locking me up in the middle of nowhere,” I complained as some vetted hairdresser was washing the tint out of my hair. Rayburn, however, didn’t look particularly concerned by my complaints. 

“That’s part of your new identity,” the Police officer nonchalantly announced like it wasn’t a big deal. I immediately lifted my head to question what the fuck she meant, but the hairdresser pulled me back to the sink by my hair. “Your name is Alice Davis, née Milton.”

“Wait, you mean to tell me I’m supposed to be married?!” I immediately protested, without moving this time. 

“Yes, to Eric Davis,” Rayburn added quickly as she looked through some papers. “You were born on April 14th 1992 in Manchester and have lived your entire life in Ardwick, Manchester. You studied Graphic Design at The University of Manchester and that’s where you met Eric Davis, a graduate literature student.” 

I rolled my eyes as DS Rayburn went over some important facts about Alice Davis’ life which quite honestly made it sound like an extremely boring one. But who was I to judge? Maybe Alice Davis was a happy woman and that definitely was a step up from my own life. 

It was already five o’clock when the hairdresser was done blow drying my hair and I stared at myself in the mirror to find out blonde didn’t suit me. At all, but I supposed that wasn’t to be my biggest concern now. I was later left alone in the locker room to change into Alice’s clothes. DS Rayburn had also left me with Alice’s file but I couldn’t like at it. Not beyond the first page. Instead, I twirled the golden wedding band between my fingers.

As much as I was angry to be dragged into a foreign town just because some stupid people decided to start shooting in a courthouse, that wasn’t my main concern. It was jealousy. I was jealous of a woman which didn’t even exist and who did really quite seem to have a perfect life. A normal sleeping pattern, a yoga routine, a Golden Retriever (which she had left with her parents until they’d gotten settled in), a job she enjoyed (and didn’t almost get her killed) and someone to share that perfect life with. 

I exhaled slowly before clapping my bare thighs and standing up which an energy I didn’t quite genuinely have. “You’re an idiot, Alma,” I sighed before pulling a black sweater over my head. I could maybe have been working into creating all that, with James, maybe, if I hadn’t decided to do that bloody internship. But then, as I was pulling on some jeans over my legs, a small voice popped in my head. Don’t kid yourself, Alma. You wouldn’t want that kind of life, especially not without him.

Just as I was zipping up my boots, Rayburn knocked on the door and without waiting for a response, opened it. “Are you ready?” She inquired, looking tired and I almost felt bad for always been so mean to her. After all, I had been offered a cot to sleep a little. 

“Yeah,” I replied vaguely, making sure I hadn’t left anything behind. “Where’s David?” I asked, my voice appearing more urgent than what I would have liked. 

“He’s in the shooting range, training,” DS Rayburn drawled and I knew what she wanted to add. There was the ‘just in case’ that floated in the air; just in case hell froze over and bullets went flying. Again. 

“Can I get a gun, too?” I tried but Rayburn’s stern look was the only reply I got. 

\---------

We were now in the underground parking lot, going over the last details. 

“David and you are driving the black Prius,” DCI Sharma stated, tilting his head at the car next to him. “Your suitcases are already in the trunk.”

David bobbed his head swiftly at DCI Sharma like he would do when receiving new instructions for his job. Looking at him, at the way he stood there tall and steady amid the Police officers, I couldn’t even try guessing what he was feeling. Was he scared? Angry? Or just taking all this in ‘like a man’, as some people say, with stoicism. 

“Are you listening, Alma?” DCI Sharma said loudly, bringing me back from my stupor and I wondered how he managed to look pissed and sorry at the same time. 

“Yes, sorry. We’re taking the ugly car. Got it.” 

“Yes,” he sighed before turning to the various officers around us. “You’ll be escorting them in two unmarked police cars, not too close so it doesn’t seem obvious. This has to look like a normal move in!” DCI Sharma ordered before wishing us all good luck. Yeah, good luck because we couldn’t be sure there weren’t any more corrupted officers and we might all be heading out to our deaths. 

“Come on, Alma,” David whispered, suddenly next to me. Without waiting for a reply, he put his hand on the small of my back and guided me to the passenger seat before opening the door and waiting for me to get in. I did as was expected and sat down on the black leather seat. Putting on the belt, I noticed my hands were shaking and I quickly squeezed them between my thighs, not wanting David to see it. 

Silently, David joined me in the car and sat down behind the wheel, adjusting the seat before turning on the ignition and backing out of the spot. “It’s going to be alright, Alma,” he said reassuringly in his Scottish accent, absentmindedly putting his hand on my thigh as he turned his head back to look through the back windshield. I hummed in agreement. My body immediately had gone rigid at his touch but I hoped it didn’t show. 

Now exiting the garage behind the first Police car, I noticed that David was wearing an earpiece when he talked on the radio. I kept staring at him, memories flooding my mind. First, when he still was Julia’s PPO and the way I would always try to catch his eyes in the rear-view mirror and then later, when he was my PPO and the wires always caught up in my hands when we started making out.   
A small grin started forming on my lips, thinking back at those memories. I closed my eyes to rejoice in the feeling a little bit longer but just as I did, there was screaming and blood, and it was Thornton Circus all over again. I tried opening my eyes again but I shake off the images. Once it started playing out I couldn’t stop it. Until his voice broke the silence. 

“Are you okay, Alma?” He inquired, whispering as he took his eyes from the second a few seconds to look at me with concern. 

“Yes,” I whispered back, lying, before shifting in my seat. “I’m just tired.”

The traffic jam inside the city was horrible and I wondered how David had the patience to drive through it without an automatic gearshift. There were just too many pedestrians and cars at rush hour, but I supposed that was why they had chosen this time since it was easier to blend in. And then, finally, we reached the M4 motorway and sped up the pace at last. 

“How does it feel working for Julia again?” I eventually asked, trying to make conversation although my interest was genuine. David took a quick peak at me as if he had thought I had fallen asleep. 

“Err,” he muttered before clearing his voice and starting again. “I still don’t like her but being the PPO to the Prime Minister is quite a promotion.” David spoke quickly, frowning. “And it comes with a bigger pay check, too.” 

“I’m happy for you,” I said earnestly, smiling even though he was looking at the road. Still, even without looking at him, just being in the small, closed off space with him made me feel so very different, self-conscious about every single detail. 

“I’ve heard about your blog,” David admitted next to me. “Listened to some of the interviews, too. Seems like you’ve found quite an audience!” 

I sat confused for a moment, not expecting him to address that topic. “I didn’t think you’d see it as a good thing.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his jaw clenching as if he was reluctant to reply. “As a Police officer, that was stupid,” David stated coldly, before taking up a lighter tone. “As a friend, I’m happy for you.”

‘And as a lover?’ I almost asked out loud despite trying to keep my poise when I heard voices coming through David’s earpiece, effectively sparing me from an awkward moment. 

“Fuck,” David mouthed angrily under his breath before abruptly merging into the right lane. 

“What’s going on?” I inquired nervously as David took the exit we had almost passed and a couple of cars honked at us too loudly. I turned to him and noticed his was frowning, his brown brows knitted together. 

“A sketchy car has been following the Police car behind us but they haven’t noticed us yet,” David explained through clenched teeth as we drove through the loop too fast and I worried the car would tip over. 

The arterial road we reached was deserted. I turned around in my seat to see if anybody was following us, but in the darkness I didn’t see anything. If they’d turned off the lights, I wouldn’t be able to see them anyway. 

David was still talking on the radio in a hushed voice, probably getting new instructions. I tried finding out where exactly we were but the car had no navigator and there weren’t any street signs. A trillion questions passed through my head as we kept on driving the never-ending road but I decided it was probably best not to interrupt whatever conversation David was having. 

“Alright,” David finally said, sounding defeated. “Make it quick!” He conceded through gritted teeth, before turning right on a smaller road. 

“Where are we going?” I inquired calmly once I was confident the conversation was over. 

“Pulling over on a dirt road and waiting until we get new instructions:” 

I nodded slowly before relaxing back into my seat, which against my prior apprehensions, turned out to be rather comfortable. “You’re not alarmed,” David noted, rather stunned, turning to look at me as we drove through some bumps. 

“There’s no noise this time.” I explained curtly, not wanting him to inquire further and luckily for me, he didn’t.

Within a few minutes, David parked the car next to some trees and bushes before turning off the engine. At once, darkness and silence surrounded us. The only noise was our breaths and I was all too aware of the fact that my heart was beating too fast and my breaths were too short. I felt embarrassed for a second until I focused and noticed he was heaving as well. And finally, I mustered up the courage. 

“Look, David,” I said and my voice was suddenly too loud for the silence of the night. I ran my tongue over my lips, still looking straight ahead although I couldn’t make out anything in the dark. “I’m sorry for what I said to you back in Mexico. That was-”

“Alma, stop.” David murmured softly and I could feel his gaze on me now. I knew he had that pained expression on his face, with the small furrow between his brows and the crease on the chin. And I was sure of all that without even looking at him because no matter how hard I tried, his memory was etched in me. 

“No, David, I need to say this,” I stated, gently and yet almost solemnly as I kept my eyes away from him. “What I said to you, that was out of line and I’m sorry,” I admitted, biting the inside of my lip. “However, I’m not sorry for being who I am and believing in what I do. And if it that makes you hate me as much as you hate Julia, well, then it’s too bad but there’s nothing I can do about it.” 

My words hung in the air, heavily, for an awfully long time. Floating around and haunting me, making me want to take them back. “I don’t hate you, Alma.” David finally spoke before laying his hand on my thigh, silently asking me to look at him and I hesitantly complied. 

He was so very beautiful under the moonlight. The dim lighting made him look young and unblemished, even though he now sported a short stubble. And for a moment, I forgot about the scars on his back and the perforation in my eardrums, I forgot about David Budd and Alma Guinness. And for that single instant, we were Eric and Alice Davis. 

When I focused on his eyes again, I instinctively knew he was thinking the same thing. Tomorrow and even later tonight already, the bubble would burst and we would be David and Alma again. Two people from two different worlds with opposed beliefs. But right now, the bubble was still intact and his left hand cupped my face, bringing me closer to him until he could kiss me. 

I felt the wedding band against my cheek and his hand sliding through my blonde hair. His lips, their texture, it was just as I remembered and it was like being back home. And gosh, did it feel good to go back home! Breaking off our kiss for just a moment, I lifted myself from my seat and with little elegance, crossed over to his side and straddled him. He moaned against my ear before starting placing little kisses on the crook my neck, his facial hair rubbing against my sensitive skin. And when I threw my head back, exposing my throat to him, I was finally able to identify what exactly I was feeling: Saudade.   
The combination of having waited for this moment, for him, for so long and yet, at the same time, already knowing that it would be over just as quickly. Just like when as kid, you blew soap bubbles into the air and enjoyed them while it lasted, well aware they were fleeting. 

That’s what I decided to do, bringing my face close to his, as my lips forcefully met his, our teeth colliding. For a second, he was surprised by this sudden burst of passion but soon enough, his hands on my hips started sliding higher, inside my sweater and all over my skin, leaving goose bumps behind them. I did the same, untucking the black shirt from his trousers, until my hands were roaming over his warm body that felt so familiar and yet so exciting. 

And then, words started coming out of David’s earpiece, taking us both by surprise like deer caught in the headlights. And just like that, we were no longer Eric and Alice but David and Alma. The bubble had burst, its translucent spherical surface exploding and this moment with it. 

The drive to the safe house took almost three more hours because we had to take a detour. I didn’t know exactly what had had happened, but it appeared that the car on the motorway had been a false alert and it was just coincidence that it was driving exactly the same route as we were.

David and I remained silent the whole drive and I kept my head against window, pretending I could see where we were going. Eventually, the car went slower as we reached a small village. Avebury. David parked the car in front of a grey brick house at the very end of a row of similar looking homes and I realized we’d have to pretend to fit into this peaceful scenery. 

We waited until David got a message that we could exit the car. David insisted on carrying both our suitcases to the front door even though the wound on his shoulder most likely still hurt. We walked up the small steps, the sound of our strides echoing all around us.

“Wait here while I check it’s safe,” David ordered in a whisper as he unlocked the door and stepped inside, his hand hovering over the gun in his holster. I waited for him under the porch, between the two suitcases that held all the belongings we had been allowed to take, and I started wondering what was the exact decision, the defining moment that snowballed me into this. 

“It’s clear,” David announced, appearing in front of me out of nowhere. I nodded and slowly walked into the foyer taking in the rustic charm of the house for a minute. “I suggest you take the bedroom with the garden view,” he suddenly said, tilting his head at the stairs. 

“Why?” I wondered. 

“The room facing the front has a single bed and considering the way you sleep, you’d fall off it on your first night,” he quickly explained with reluctant a smile.


	14. Chapter 13

The first night had gone by quickly. Mainly, I supposed, because of the exhaustion caused by the adrenaline. Without bothering to turn on the lights, I had undressed by the window and pulled on some simple pyjamas I found in the suitcase I hadn’t packed. None of this was mine, the clothes, the bedroom, the life but before I could start thinking about the current situation any longer, sleep had quickly come over me. 

The next day was a different story altogether. I didn’t get up until eleven and didn’t even leave the bed   
until noon. Somehow, I still felt sleepy. When I did finally exit my bedroom, I immediately collided with David, or rather with his torso, in the hallway. Considering the steam coming out of the bathroom and the towel secured around his waist, I figured he had just stepped out of the shower. 

“Sorry,” I muttered, pulling myself away from him at once, for some reason still startled. I avoided looking up at him for the longest of time, but when he didn’t remove his warm hands from my shoulders, I had no other choice. Slowly, I raised my gaze to look at him and was surprised to find him still sporting the stubble. 

“Are you okay, Alma?” He inquired, concern evident in his voice, his hands feeling increasingly hotter on my shoulders. I noticed his jaw twitching as if he wanted to add something, but the movement it was gone before I could be sure I had even seen it. I shook my head softly, my eyes tightly shut as I internally cursed at myself when I realized what was happening. 

“Yeah,” I breathed out before prying myself away from him. “It’s just fatigue.”

I quickly hurried downstairs to the kitchen, almost falling down after my toes got caught in the carpet but managing to grab the handrail just in time. I was already by the counter, eating some disgusting ready meal I had heated up in the microwave when David came waddling into the kitchen, fully dressed in mesh sport slacks and a plain black t-shirt. It was only then that I remembered that I was still wearing pyjamas and wondered whether I ought to change next time I leave my room. 

“Are you feeling better?” He asked lightly, opening the fridge next to me and taking out a plastic package and putting it in the microwave. My brows knitted together for a moment as I thought about my answer. I still remembered how angry he had been when he’d found out I indulged in cocaine and I speculated mentioning it again would make things more tense if that was even possible. 

“I was just hungry.” I lied, not looking at him as I threw the cutlery into the sink and walked over to the bin to discard the package. I could feel his stare on my back while I walked around the small room, cleaning up behind myself. I wanted to leave but I’d have to walk past him and worried he’d figure out what was going on when he saw my face. But then, the microwave’s strident alarm rang through the room and I jumped up before clutching the counter with all my strength to calm down. David didn’t share my habit of stopping the timer before the countdown was over. 

“This stuff is gross!” David blurted out suddenly and I couldn’t help the small smirk that reached my lips. Yes, that shit was gross, indeed. Slowly, I pried my fingers away from the tiled counter and turned around. He was still eating the pasta even though it tasted nothing like it was supposed to and it made me wonder whether he’d eat just about anything. 

“I guess we’ll have to cook, then.” I said, barely aware that sounds were leaving my lips. I waited until his attention had diverted to the food again, before I strode out of the room and straight into the living room where I flopped down on the couch, hoping some more sleep would resolve this. 

I woke up hours later with strange, muffled sounds. For a second, I wondered whether there was someone other than David in the house but then I quickly realized it was just the TV and I allowed myself to keep my eyes closed a little longer. Squirming against the pillows, I felt that my feet were propped up on something soft and warm before coming to the conclusion that David had rested them on his lap. The couch was most likely too short for him to sit down otherwise. I was about to pull them back, suddenly aware I hadn’t showered when groans and moans came out of the TV. Was he watching porn?

Without a warning I pulled myself into a sitting position, almost hitting his face with my legs but his reflexes were on point, and he managed to catch them mid-air. I looked up at him, trying to put on an apologetic expression but he seemed on the verge of laughter, his fingers still digging into my flesh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to wake you up.” David finally managed to say once his amusement had died out and I had regained possession of my limbs. 

I turned my face back to the telly and saw a couple still pretty much engaged in aggressive lovemaking, if you could call it that. “What are you watching?” I asked with curiosity before sitting back down on the other side couch, cross-legged. The room was plunged in darkness which made me realize I had been asleep for most of the day. 

“Game of Thrones.” David replied, not looking at me but focusing on the screen instead as a loud laugh left my throat. “Why are you laughing?” He asked, almost defensively as he turned to look at me and I could barely make out his features in the darkness. 

“I thought you were watching porn when I woke up,” I admitted with amusement and I saw David’s body jerk up with embarrassment next to me. It took me all my strength to keep myself from chortling. 

“Gosh, Alma!” David blurted out, his cheeks blushing. “I’d never do that with you sleeping next to me.”

“My naked form was the only thing keeping you from it, then?” I retorted with joyful sarcasm as I got up from the couch and enjoyed his discomfort before making my way around the couch and into the kitchen. I was feeling better rested now and I supposed it affected my mood. 

“Where are you going?” David’s voice called out when I left his sight. 

“If I’m going to watch TV, I need snacks.”

 

That’s how our current routine was born. David was in charge of lunch, I took care of dinner. He dusted and vacuumed, and I took care of washing, ironing and folding the laundry. He’d talk with DCI Sharma and DS Rayburn on some untraceable phone every day, and I’d try to ignore the conversation. He never gave me any updates and I didn’t ask for them. If there was something essential, I knew he’d share it with me.   
And the rest of the day, we spent it in front of the TV watching that HBO show. At night, when we were too tired to focus on the plot any longer, David would go upstairs to sleep and I’d remain on the couch, awaiting another sleepless night. I hadn’t managed to sleep during night time again since that first night in this house. The rest of the drug had long since left my bloodstream and I would be left alone with my thoughts, with nothing to calm my anxiety. 

I was quite sure he was aware of this. David knew that only ever went to my room to change and that I spent most of the night watching whatever the channels would play in the unholy hours of the night, mostly some old reruns and awful horror movies. I knew that he knew because each night, he would stay with me just a little longer than the night before, until he couldn’t keep his eyelids open any longer.   
It made me wonder, more often than I’d like to admit, why he was so determined to avoid falling asleep in my presence. The only possibility that made sense in my mind was that he had rekindled things with Vicky in my absence and he thought that’d be too intimate. 

Granted, the kissing in the car a week ago now, spoke against that option. David didn’t seem the kind of person who would cheat, especially not on the woman he was still legally married to, but that night had been a one-off thing, a combination of adrenaline, weakness and despair that would never form again. And I never spoke of it, neither did he. 

“I have to admit that you cook a lot better than I do,” David commented before rising up from his chair with his plate and serving himself another portion of gratin. I wouldn’t call myself a good cook, but having lived on my own for years now, I had had to learn it somehow.  
I watched him move gracefully in his black sweatpants. He barely wore anything else these days, partly since our pre-packed suitcases didn’t offer lots of options but mainly because there was no point: We hadn’t left the house in eight days except for the time spent in the garden for the sake of fresh air. 

“You’re not a bad cook,” I muttered, picking at my food as I noticed David cocking his brow at me from the other side of the small table. “It’s just that,” I began explaining, not knowing how to put my thoughts into words. “It’s like you only ever learnt to cook for kids. Chicken nuggets, fish and chips and that sort of thing.” I giggled, afraid for a moment that I’d hurt his feelings until he chuckled as well. 

“Aye, actually, I only ever learnt to cook after Vicky and I got separated.” David replied, pausing his eating for the first time since he’d sat down. I turned his words in my head, trying to decipher from them whether things between them had changed since then. “Before then, Vicky did the cooking and I helped however I could.”

I pondered his words, playing with the half-empty glass in my hand as he went back to eating. I realized I knew nothing about him. Even in that time, between Craddock’s arrest and the failure that was Mexico, David and I hadn’t really gotten to know each other. Most of the time, he had been in therapy and I was snorting coke, and when things slowly started looking up, we did nothing much but fuck. 

“How was it?” I eventually asked and David looked up at me, his mouth full and the look on his face one of confusion. “When the kids were little, I mean.”

David took the time to finish chewing before humouring me. “Ella was born just before I turned twenty-three,” he shared, with a faraway look in his face. “Vicky’s a little younger than me but she was a lot more mature than I was back then. She warned me all the time that things would be hectic once the baby was there but I didn’t pay attention, didn’t read any of her books. I spent the whole pregnancy admiring the growing bump.” David went on, with a smile that reached his eyes and soon enough, I was smiling as well. “And then, Ella showed up and suddenly there was poop, and pee, and vomit everywhere!”

I laughed so hard at his words that the wine ended up in the wrong pipe and I choked. “David, stop! We’re eating, that’s disgusting.” I managed to cough out but for some reason that only made him laugh louder, unbothered by the repulsive image he had just put in my head.

“And just when we thought we were done with all that mess, Charlie came along and it was like juggling with all that while riding a bike on fire!” Once again, laughter erupted in the kitchen and I realized I hadn’t laughed that hard in months. Looking up at David, it seemed he felt the same. 

When we’d finally had calmed down, I got up from the chair and went to open the dishwasher. “Do you want to do that again?” I inquired out loud without realizing and immediately regretted my question, it was probably too personal. Hoping he hadn’t heard the question, I quickly pilled the plates on the table and carried them to the machine. Then, I did the same with the cutlery and the glasses. When I’d got the dishwasher running without David’s help for the first time, he was still silently sitting and I worried whether my question had broken him.

At this point, I hoped he would let it go and I no longer expected an answer, when he finally spoke again. “I don’t think so, Alma. It was very tiring and difficult at times. But it was also fun and probably the happiest time in my life.” David said in earnest, looking at nothing in particular and I was glad he didn’t see the smile on my face that didn’t quite reach the eyes. “Maybe,” he added, surprising me.

I nodded to myself, but at what, I didn’t quite know and decided I wouldn’t overthink it. Instead, I walked over to the sink and started washing my hands. “Do you?” David asked out of the blue, a little too loud and the sudden sound startled me. “Do you want children?”

“Oh, hell no!” I blurted out at once. 

 

David and I were now nearing the end of season 2. It was already very late, he hadn’t ever stayed up this late with me but we both agreed that none of us would be able to go to sleep without watching the season finale. Soon, David and I had found ourselves at odds concerning the show. While he stood firmly with the Starks, I was fond of the Lannisters. 

“I don’t understand how you can stand that bitch,” David groaned when Cersei appeared on the screen, his hand lazily brushing my now blond hair. It was the first time I’d ever heard him utter that word and it felt foreign in his accent. 

“Shut up,” I wheezed through gritted teeth, trying to listen to what was being said. “She’s better fit to be a leader than that Robb Stark of yours,” I added once the scene was over and immediately, I felt David’s foot kick my leg beneath the blanket. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” David muttered, entertained and I readjusted myself. His chest was too hot against my back but I didn’t have the heart to move, especially when I had been the one to insist on the blanket hours ago because my feet were cold. Despite that minor inconvenience, being cuddled into David’s body was still a most comfortable cocoon. 

The episode was coming to an end, Robb having just married Talisa. Suppressing a yawn, I wriggled against David, trying to free my legs from the blanket when I felt his hardness against the small of my back. I heard David let out a long breath and I bit my tongue, hesitating on whether I ought to just ignore it or maybe try to initiate something? Would he even want me to? Too much time passed, and the credits started rolling on the screen without me having paid attention to the last few scenes. Instinctively, I knew the time had passed and I pulled myself from the couch, stretching out. With a simple ‘goodnight’, David made his way upstairs. It was already two in the morning and there wasn’t anything particularly interesting on the TV. This didn’t keep me from putting on an old Western movie. 

Now alone, my mind started whirling around and I didn’t even try to focus on the movie. Instead, I started wondering how much more time the Police would require to catch Nadia. I wasn’t keeping in touch with Deepak or Louise, but David would surely tell me when they had her in custody again. In the meantime, we remained locked up in Avebury although I had overheard David on the phone this morning, telling them we’d be forced to go out soon even just for the sake of our mental health, and at the very least, for grocery shopping. 

Trying not to think about the messed up situation Britain was currently in, I concentrated on the movie playing out in front of me. Although old and cliché, it did manage to quieten my brain and I felt myself relaxing into slumber when the movie ended and I found myself wide awake again just as suddenly. 

Then my mind spun in another direction and I started to wonder what I was going to do once this was over. Granted, it had only been a week but I had given my university no warning, I wasn’t even sure they’d take me back at this point. There was that tiny voice in my head telling me that two law degrees were enough and that I should simply focus on taking over the Port wine company. That option wasn’t very appealing but I wasn’t quite sure I wanted a career in politics anymore.

Suddenly, I heard some muffled noise but I couldn’t directly pinpoint where it was coming from. At once, I put the television on mute but the noise had stopped and I allowed myself to breathe out, although I was still very much on edge. And then it happened again, and without giving it another thought, I silently made my way to the kitchen and grabbed the largest knife I could find. Well aware I most likely looked silly, I still walked around the ground floor, the knife firmly in hand. All the windows were locked and I made my way to the front door when I heard a blood-curdling scream that had me frozen at once, the knife almost slipping away from my grasp. 

I didn’t know he still had nightmares. To the best of my knowledge, he hadn’t had any since we had moved here but maybe he had just remained quiet the other times and I hadn’t noticed it downstairs. Another wail reached my ears, softer this time and I figured he was reaching the end of the dream and he’d be fine. Sighing, I made my way back into the kitchen and put the knife back into its original place, when another cry travelled through the house, making me cringe.   
Not willing to waste another second, I hurried my way out of the kitchen and up the stairs until I reached his closed door. Closed, but not locked and so I twisted the round handle and let myself in. 

The room was dark, but with the moonlight shining through the small window I quickly found David tossing and turning on the bed, the covers long since fallen on the floor. He was mumbling in his sleep, incoherently, his face contorted with pain. For a moment, I was about to walk over to him and simply shake him out of his nightmare, but then I remembered what had happened the last time I did that and decided against it. 

I approached him slowly and saw him up close then, the way his eyes were tightly pressed shut as he kept whimpering, pleading ‘no’ to someone who wasn’t there. And it broke my heart into a thousand pieces, seeing him vulnerable like that.  
Once I was hovering over him frame, I grabbed both his forearms without a warning. Immediately, his bright blue eyes shot wide open and he started fighting me off him. 

“David, it’s Alma,” I breathed out in a voice I hoped was reassuring as I struggled against his strength, trying to push him back as his hands were forcing their way to my neck. “Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real.” I insisted but his blue eyes were still glazed over as he threatened to overpower me, grunting. Gathering all the strength I had left, and relying on the effect of surprise, I tightened the grip around his forearms and pushed him back with so much momentum, I fell over him, my forehead hitting his nose. 

Between my hands, his arms went almost limp and I allowed myself to untighten my grip just a little. I was panting hard against his face but David was so still beneath me, I wasn’t sure he was even breathing. “Alma,” he finally murmured next to my cheek, his warm breath caressing my skin. He was here again, I told myself before letting go of his arms completely. 

“Yes,” I whispered back, lifting myself from him and brushing the blonde hair away from my face. “It’s me. Everything is okay.” I spoke softly, putting his mind at ease. I was about to stand up when I felt his hand close in around mine, slowly, carefully before he raised his head to look at me, an indescribable look on his face. He sat up then, facing me. 

“Andy’s face, the ambush, the grenade,” David jabbered fast in a hushed voice, his words making little sense to me but generating horrifying images in his mind. Without thinking it through in my head, I lifted my free hand, bringing it to his face and cupping his cheek before wiping away a lone tear that had somehow escaped. 

“That’s all in the past,” I muttered, a feeling of guilt rising up in me but I quickly fought it off before it could cloud my mind. “Afghanistan’s gone, David. We’re in Wiltshire now,” I added, conjuring up a small grin I wasn’t sure he’d be able to see in the darkness. 

As David processed what I’d just told him, he slowly nodded against my hand before a small smile crept upon his lips. “Thank you,” he mouthed, not letting go of my hand. 

We didn’t exchange more words as I carefully stepped over him to lie down on the other side of the small bed, between himself and the wall. Now closely pressed together against him, I noticed how the damp fabric of his t-shirt clung to his skin but surprisingly, I wasn’t grossed out. Instead, I pulled him closer to me until his face was resting on my breast, his arm snaked around my waist. It took him a while to go back to sleep, needing to slow his breathing first. 

I only allowed myself to close my eyes when I was sure he was asleep again. And when I did, my imagination failed to summon all kind of twisted scenarios. It couldn’t play games with me, tricking me into believing he was dead when I could feel his chest rising against me. Unable to make me suffer through made up scenarios, my brain had no other option than letting me drift off. 

 

I woke up alone in bed the next day, hugging a pillow David had probably placed there when he left me, as if an inanimate object could ever replace his presence. Still, the thought was there and it warmed my heart.

I didn’t get up right away. There were too many thoughts and emotions running around in my mind. Most of all, I felt sorry that David’s nights were still plagued with nightmares. That although therapy had been helping him with some aspects of his PTSD, it didn’t make miracles happen. A wound would remain a wound, even if it was bandaged. That in turn reassured me about my choice of not going to my psychiatrist anymore.   
You can wash a white carpet however much you want, but red stains remain. Whether they were cause by blood or by red wine. Memories were permanent, the good ones too. And even in all that blood bath, there had been some wine. 

Somewhat more appeased, I finally pulled back the covers, got out of bed and opened the window to air the room. I made a quick stop in the bathroom, before going downstairs barefoot all the while trying not to fall down the steep stairs. Once downstairs, I walked to the kitchen for breakfast. And there he was, in a black t-shirt and boxers, eating cereal on the counter. I couldn’t observe him for long before he noticed me and brought the bowl of cereal with him to the kitchen table, moving farther away from me. A crease appeared between my eyebrows but I decided not to mention it. 

“Good morning,” I said, rather happily as I opened the fridge to find that the milk was once again on the back of the door. I sighed at the sight but decided not to move it. After all, I didn’t drink it. 

“Morning,” David mumbled so low I wouldn’t have heard him hadn’t the room been perfectly quiet. 

I frowned as I grabbed the orange juice from the fridge and poured some of it in a glass, before turning on myself to look at him. But he wasn’t looking at me. He was intensely focused on the title page of an old newspaper that had been lying around on the table. I sipped on the juice before my patience ran out. 

“Did you sleep well?” I asked, feeling just a little bitter and it was noticeable in my tone. David finally raised his gaze from the newspaper for a moment and stared at me blankly for a moment, looking at my physical presence but not at me. And then, just as quickly, he lowered his gaze again at the large sheet of paper. 

“Aye, well enough, I guess,” he mumbled once again and I wondered how much longer he could keep staring at the same ten sentences without getting an aneurism. How much longer could I keep staring at him without getting an aneurism myself, ought to have been the better question. 

“Is something the matter, David?” I asked sharply, leaning my back against the fridge as I gazed at David with annoyance but although my louder voice had made him flinch for a fraction of second, he hadn’t bothered address my words, his eyes still on that bloody newspaper. 

I sat down the glass on the counter, exhaling loudly, or rather groaning as I strode up to him and ripped the paper from his hand, throwing it behind myself as single sheets started floating in the air around us. “Will you do me the honour of telling me what’s the matter?” I repeated, sarcastically. 

No longer having the random words to look at, David finally raised his head to look at me. It felt foreign to be taller than him, to stand above him, even if it was only due to him sitting down. I was almost giving up hope on getting a reply when his lips finally moved. “You shouldn’t have come to my room last night.” David uttered these words so expressionlessly, it didn’t feel as if they had come out of his mouth and that in turn made me laugh at loud, but his serious countenance didn’t change. 

“You’re telling me I should simply ignore your wailing?” I intoned incredulously as I kept looking at him, straight into his blue eyes but they seemed so different than last night. 

“Aye, that’s exactly what I’m telling you,” David nodded soberly but I could feel anger rise up when him when he purposefully avoided eye contact. Instead, he stood up and walked up to the sink, taking the almost empty cereal bowl with him, acting as if I wasn’t even in the same room. 

“And what if the noise bothers me, David? What then?” I interjected, still with that sarcastic tone I couldn’t never get rid of when my blood started boiling. 

“Then you close your bloody ears, Alma. Just like everyone else!” He shouted back, without looking at me, pouring the rest of milk into the drain. But there wasn’t just anger in his shout, there was something else and I couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Pain, maybe? 

“And what if I don’t want to close my ears, David?” I retorted, still angry but curious most of all. Was he fighting with me, or with himself? 

He sighed, before bending down to open the dishwater and stash that ugly white bowl inside. “Just do whatever you want, Alma.” His voice was weaker than before, as if he was giving up and then he closed the dishwater and made his way for the door. 

“You resent me, don’t you?” I interrupted, before he could leave the kitchen and he stopped in his tracks, his right hand on the doorframe. 

“No, Alma,” he sighed heavily, his grip tightening but he didn’t turn around. “It’s not that.”

“Oh, but it is!” I said loudly before jumping up to sit on the counter, my legs dangling in front of the lower shelves. “You hate me, David.” I added softer, tasting those words in my mouth for the first time. And then David spun around, facing me at last, even if only from afar. He was about to say something but I didn’t give him the opportunity to, not when I knew whatever his words were, they’d sting. “You hate having me comfort you when you know I’d have sent you there, had I been in Parliament then.”

“You hate who I am and you hate what life had turned you into,” I went on and David was looking perplexed now, not quite looking me in the eyes but not strong enough to leave either. “You have killed people and although it haunts you at night, you were ready to kill again,” I continued, hinting at Luke Aikens. “And in the end, I wouldn’t have stopped you. Because, I agree, not everyone deserves to live.” I was thinking of Nadia now, but that wasn’t the point. “But that isn’t the man you were and the one Vicky fell in love with.”

“Alma, stop.” David bolted, interrupted me, almost pleadingly.

“Vicky is the most caring person. The one who became a nurse because she wants to help people and believes everyone deserves a second chance. And she tried helping you, giving you a second chance.” I stopped for a moment, gauging his reaction but his expression was still unreadable, although his blue eyes seemed darker now. 

“But you couldn’t let her help you, let her touch you because each time she did, you felt as if you were tainting her, spoiling her immaculateness. And that’s how your marriage fell apart.” I concluded and David kept watching me in silence, his right hand curled into a fist next to his thigh. “But then I came along,” I pursued, changing tones and David finally met my eyes with his. Was he daring me to continue, I wondered silently, or was he daring me to stop. 

“And you hate me. Not as much as Julia, no, but just the right amount for you to be able to feel at ease with me and even to love me.” It was bold of me to assume this, and I was reluctant to meet his eyes now, but he didn’t deny it. “You hate me just enough not to feel like you’re blighting me because after all, I already was before I met you.” 

The mood had changed. It was dense enough to cut through it was a knife, but not just because of anger. It was the heaviness of truth combined with that small pinch of resentment, that eventually resulted in lust. “Tell me I’m wrong, David.” I dared him urgently, having to concentrate all my strength of will to keep myself from leaping off the counter. “Tell me I’m wrong. I dare you.”

His body shook in a way I couldn’t quite describe, but his blue eyes remained focused on me, with desire or anger, I didn’t know. And then he marched over, his steps loud on the tiles although he was barefoot until he was just inches away from my body, looking down at me. For a moment, when he lifted his hand, I thought he’d strike me. Maybe I deserved it after my rant. But he didn’t. His hand didn’t forcefully collide with cheek, it went to the back of my neck, bringing me closer to him before his lips clashed against mine. And then he kissed me, and I kissed him back just as vigorously.

Needing no further invitation, my hands grabbed the hem of his t-shirt before pulling it over his head and throwing it somewhere in the room. David seized the opportunity to discard my pyjama top in the same instant. I crossed my feet against his butt, bringing him even closer as my hands roamed over the welts on his back. His hands slid down my back, cupping my cheeks and lifting me up so that we could kiss again, his tongue fighting mine for dominance and after a short battle, I called myself defeated. During that fight, David had managed to slip off my panties halfway down my thighs and I unlaced my legs from him, relying on his arm strength to hold me up as I took off the last of my undergarments before doing the same to his boxers. 

His length sprung free of the fabric confinement and David’s lips left mine as a grunt escaped his throat. I didn’t give him much time to regain his breath before I recaptured his lips with mine, and tightened my grip on his shoulders to pull myself higher, his manhood dangerously close to my mound now. David tumbled backwards then but quickly regained his balance before the fridge smashed against my back, making it arch. 

And then David pried his lips away from mine, allowing us both to pant. His eyes bore into mine with an intensity I didn’t know was possible, and I couldn’t help but to wonder whether it was hate or love. Before I could even consider asking and ruining the moment, David aligned himself with my entrance and pushed himself into me, all the way up to the hilt. I couldn’t contain the whimper that escaped my lips then, closing my eyes as the pleasure and pain mixed together was just too intense.   
He pulled himself almost all the way out, before pounding into me again and the plates in the shelves rattled but neither of us seemed to care. His fingers dug into the skin of my bottom, leaving marks for sure, as his other hand grabbed the edge of the fridge for support and he started pounding relentlessly into me, groans and curse words leaving his mouth in a dizzy twist and reaching my ears. 

I remained there, pressed between his warm chest and the cold inox, unable to stop the cries each time he hammered within me. David wasn’t being the gentle, careful lover I knew him to be. He didn’t once stop to ask whether I was okay, inquire whether the magnets were digging into my back. No, David pumped into me with a rage I wasn’t acquainted with but as his thrusts became erratic, the curse words incoherent and his grip on my haunch tighter, I couldn’t deny the pleasure of being manhandled like this by him. And when David pounded into me once last time, coating me in his semen, my moans matched his groans next to my ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait, I realize I haven’t updated since the last day of January. I just found myself with the flu and then had to write a few law essays I had been procrastinating doing for too long.  
> I’m not losing interest in the story but I’m finding it increasingly difficult to develop David’s character beyond the show’s timeline without making him OOC. Please do tell me if you think I’m doing a horrible job or if you’re enjoying the story so far. Reviews are what keeps me going!   
> Also, I need to know: Do you prefer domestic scenes or action?
> 
> BTW, not that you care or anything but I’m just excited about it and I needed to share it: I’m flying to London on the 18th for a few days and managed to get a reservation at the Chiltern Firehouse!


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the amount of time it took me to post this chapter! My trip to London was a total failure and I have no skin left on my feet.   
> I have to admit I'm not quite pleased with this chapter but I promise the pace will keep up in the next chapter and there will be action. For now, I just hope not to disappoint and if I do, let me know!

It would be much more picturesque to say that the last sunrays fell upon my skin through the tilted window. To say that my skin appeared glazed from our recent activities and that I still felt the ghost of his lips on mine. But life wasn’t picturesque and the moonlight shining through the small window failed to warm up my skin. I felt cold and lonely even though David was lying next to me, most likely asleep. So, I sighed, stretched out my sore body and stood up. 

It was dark outside and even when I focused on my eyesight, all I could see was my reflection on the glass, staring right back at me. For an instant, my own shape felt foreign. Twenty minutes ago, my nails were digging into David’s back and my back was arching with pleasure. Now, I just felt dreadful and clammy. 

“What do you see?” David asked from the bed behind me, startling me for a second. Slowly my eyes shifted lower on the window and I could see him through the reflected image. He was now sitting up in bed, still naked with his back against the headboard and somehow, the after sex glow worked way better on him than on me. 

“Nothing, it’s dark,” I replied, frowning. 

“I meant what do you see when you close your eyes and try to sleep.” He clarified and I averted my gaze, afraid he would try to catch my eyes on the reflection. 

“What do you see in your nightmares?” I retorted but we both knew it wasn’t a question, it was an attempt to end the topic. 

“I’m serious, Alma,” David sighed before jumping out of bed with newly gained energy. He put on boxers that I had taken off him not long ago and walked over to me. I felt his hands on my shoulders and his chin next to my hair, before I saw it on the mirroring image. “I need to know you’re alright and if you aren’t, then I want to help.” His breath brushed over my scalp and I could make out whether it was warm or cold. 

“That’s very kind, David,” I murmured, somehow subconsciously afraid that if I spoke too loud the reflection would shatter and he’d disappear. “But you’re not my shrink, nor my bodyguard.”

“You don’t have a shrink. And it’s still my job to protect you.” David replied, his grip slightly tightening on my shoulders before his thumbs started drawing imaginary shapes on my skin. I considered his words for a few seconds, frowning. 

“What do you mean it’s still your job to protect me?” I asked in a whisper but the instant the words left my lips it was like I already knew the answer. I saw him clench his jaw as if hesitating on the right words. 

“The reason the Police placed us in the same safe house was not merely financial,” he replied evasively and for a second I thought he wouldn’t continue. “My mission is still to keep you safe, above all else.” David clarified. 

I couldn’t pinpoint the exact emotions that washed over me at his words. Somehow I felt disappointed in myself that I hadn’t figured it out before, on my own. “I’m no longer Julia’s intern. Why should my safety prevail overs yours?”

“Imagine the mayhem your family, your uncle would cause if anything happened to you,” David replied, his tone darker now. I had to suppress the ironical smirk that threatened to appear on my lips. We had just gone back to September now, I was still just a job, someone he had to protect. Somehow, after all that had happened, all that we had gone through, I was still the principal and he was still the PPO.

“Was this part of your job? To watch TV late at night with me, to fuck me when I all but asked you in those exact words?” I had expected his answer to slap some sense into me – of course, it was all part of his job. He still hated me but his job meant that he had to put feelings aside and keep his principal safe and happy. 

Instead, his answer was spinning me around so that I was facing him. He had his brows furrowed as his eyes dug deep into mine. “Julia asked me to protect you, whatever the costs,” he said earnestly and his hands locked mine in a tight clasp. “That’s my job, protecting you. The rest, this,” he clarified, strengthening his hold around my fingers, “this is because I want to.”

Despite all that he had said, I couldn’t avoid the shiver that shot through me when I pondered the “whatever the costs”. I wanted to protest, to argue that we were equals, but I knew the order had come from all the way up, from the Prime Minister herself and my words would never be able to erase hers. So I decided I wouldn’t let Julia and her orders ruin what had been a perfectly good night, and freed my right hand from David’s grasp before sliding it inside his boxers. 

-/-/-/-/-

I knew that David was talking on the satellite phone with DS Rayburn and DCI Sharma now. His voice was different, colder, than when he had been talking with Vicky and the kids this morning. I could hear his nervous steps as he paced on the parquetry above me but I couldn’t distinctly make out the words that were being exchanged. 

Silently and almost absentmindedly I folded the clean and ironed clothes on the board before staring at two piles for a couple of seconds. Without daring to put my thoughts into clear images, I took some clothing out of each pile and put it inside a clear plastic bag I had found in the laundry room. I placed the rest of the clean laundry inside the plastic basket and exited the room. Once in the garage, I stopped in my steps, making sure that I could still hear him talking on the phone before grabbing the keys from the hanger and unlocking the car. For a moment, I considered opening the boot but then decided to open the passenger door instead and wedged the plastic bag in the small space beneath the seat, making a mental note to add some toiletries. 

“We are going grocery shopping,” David groaned as soon as I entered the living room. He was still holding the phone in his hand. 

“That’s great!” I exclaimed before setting down the plastic basket on the sofa as my arms were getting tired. “I ran out of orange juice at breakfast.”

The stare David addressed me immediately made me realize that he didn’t share my enthusiasm and the longer I looked at him, the more I started realizing what this meant: They were no closer to finding Nadia and we would most likely run out of supplies before they could get her. “Why aren’t they sending over some officers with groceries?” I asked, the idea of a trip to Tesco no longer thrilling me. 

“Only a very few limited number of Police officers know about this situation,” David replied, anxiously running a hand through his head. “And even in unmarked cars, Sharma is afraid they could be followed.”

I swallowed down the saliva that had stagnated in my mouth. Somehow, the cooking, the telly watching, the fucking, all that had distracted me to the point that I had almost forgotten the reason we were here in the first place. And just as quickly, images from my panic attack at the court house came rushing back. “Is it safe?” I asked timidly. 

It seemed as if my strangled question brought David back from his annoyed pacing as he immediately turned in my direction. I felt his warm hand on my cheek and couldn’t remember seeing him walk over to me. “Of course it is,” David said in a reassuring tone as he placed his thumb beneath my chin, forcing to look up. “I would never even consider it if I believed your safety was at risk.”

I wasn’t sure whether he meant those words or whether he considered them a necessary lie to prevent another panic attack on my side, but either way, I trusted him and that was enough. 

Less than an hour later, I was sitting silently as David carefully drove through the slim garage doors. I was glad David had taken the driver’s seat because as much as I enjoyed driving, garages and I weren’t exactly friends. Voices kept coming out of David’s earpiece during the entire drive and it was pretty much the same thing than when we had driven to Avebury from London, except that it was now daylight and the trip much shorter. Soon enough, David pulled into a parking spot and turned off the engine but made no move to open his door. 

“You stay with me at all times. Don’t leave my sight and do whatever I say. If I tell you to run, you run.” David spoke in a light tone but even that couldn’t mask the grave warning behind his words. “And if for whatever reason someone asks, you’re Alice Davis.” 

“Relax, Eric,” I chuckled before making a failed attempt at winking. 

David insisted on taking my hand, pushing the car with only his left hand, although I was quite sure I had never seen a couple holding hands while grocery shopping. The first thing I noticed was that I was much too used doing my shopping on my own and it felt increasingly weird having David watch me as I chose between different brands of shortbread cookies but to my surprise he didn’t comment about how much time I was taking. 

Perhaps it was the fact that the Tesco was almost empty and most customers seemed to be pensioners – who else had the time to go grocery shopping on a Tuesday morning? – or the fact that I could finally choose what I would eat, but I felt myself relax as I walked through the different aisles and a quick look at David let me know that he was feeling the same way, even taking some time to look for his favourite beer. Soon enough, we reached the hygiene products area, not far from the cash registers. I needed to grab two of those filled travel toiletries bags without him noticing, but the fact that we were still holding hands made that task rather difficult. 

I sighed before heading over to the aisle that would make him most uncomfortable and started looking at the different tampons boxes, picking up a few of them at random as if I couldn’t make up my mind. Next to me, David was growing uneasy but to my annoyance he still hadn’t told me to hurry up. “They don’t have the brand I normally use, and I can’t decide between those with the applicator and the ones with the protective veil,” I groaned, faking annoyance. 

“Just take both boxes, Alice.” His tongue almost slipped, almost calling me Alma in public but he caught himself just in time. 

“I don’t need 48 tampons,” I chuckled nervously before looking up at him. “Why don’t you go over there and pick up some condoms while I make up my mind?” At first, I thought he’d object but much to my surprise and luck, he didn’t. 

“I won’t be far.” He promised, before sliding his hand away from mine and walking away. As soon as he was at the other side of the aisle, I grabbed the two travel toiletries bags I had spotted minutes ago and grabbed the first box of tampons that I came across. 

I felt guilty about lying to him, but I didn’t want to ruin his good mood by telling him about the bad feeling in my gut I couldn’t get rid of. I was most likely nothing, anyway, and there was no point in giving my irrational fears more strength by voicing out loud. David was back at my side less than two minutes later and we made our way to the cash registers. The male cashier packed our groceries inside some white plastic bags and David paid for them in cash, not wanting to leave any traces of our visit.*

The drive was to the safe house was less stressful since the riskier part was behind us. We couldn’t turn on the radio because David needed to be able to listen to the directions in his earpiece, but he rested his free hand on my thigh the whole way which to my inner embarrassment, brought a smile to my lips. I even had to admit that Avebury looked quite lovely in daylight. 

Within minutes, we were pulling back into the garage and taking out the groceries. “Hand me that bag,” I ordered David as he was clogging up all the space in front of the trunk. 

“That one’s too heavy,” David refused before handing me two barely filled bags. “Take these, I’ll carry the rest.” I was about to protest when a noise surprised us both. 

“Good afternoon,” a female voice resonated through the small garage and we both turned around at once, David’s hand firmly on my arm until we noticed it was some old lady. “Oh dear, I didn’t mean to startle you. We live next door and were just coming to say hello,” the white haired lady explained, gesturing at the old man next to her. 

“Good afternoon,” I replied as soon as the panic subsided. “No need to apologize. I’m Alice Davis, by the way. This is my husband, Eric,” I said, introducing David as I quickly peaked at our hands to make sure we hadn’t forgotten to wear the wedding bands today, before stretching out my hand, hoping she would shake it. 

The lady shook my hand before introducing herself as Hilda and the old man behind her as George, her husband. “We were actually wondering if you’d like to come by for dinner this evening?” Hilda asked sheepishly and my last two brain cells immediately started working on a good excuse to refuse without hurting her feelings. 

“We’d like that very much,” David said, taking me by surprise. 

-/-/-/-/-/-

“I don’t know why you had to accept their invitation,” I groaned as I went tiptoes to try and place David’s cereals on the highest shelf. I felt ridiculous and sighed with annoyance. Having finally noticed my struggle, David did it himself. 

“Because it’s Avebury, Wiltshire,” he deadpanned. “Everyone knows everyone and having dinner with our neighbours will make us seem less suspicious.” Dave had finished putting away half of the groceries in record time, but I rolled my eyes as soon as I opened the fridge. 

“Don’t put the milk on the door,” I complained, before placing it in the coldest area of the fridge. “But it’s going to be so boring, David. They’re old people, older even than my parents.” He grinned at my rant, leaning against the wall as he looked at me put away the last of the groceries. 

“No offense, Alma, but having only you for company for the past eleven days isn’t exactly the most exciting thing either.” I closed the fridge’s door so I could get a good look at him after those words, but he was still in the spot looking smug and I was rather offended. 

“Really,” I articulated slowly. “I guess you can sleep in your bed again tonight, then.”

That seemed to shut him up and I couldn’t help the smirk that crept upon my face when I left the kitchen. He had been able to talk with Vicky and the kids this morning, through a safe, encrypted line. Vicky had reassured him that they were all safe, but that Charlie couldn’t chat with him because he was having breakfast with a couple of his friends that had stayed the night. 

“You were joking back then, right?” Dave inquired sheepishly as he joined me on the couch while I searched for Dynasty rebooted. David hated it but he agreed that we ought to keep Game of Thrones for the evenings if we didn’t want to finish the series too quickly. 

I rolled my eyes in amusement before clicking on play. “I haven’t decided yet.”

7 o’clock rolled around soon enough, mainly because we had both fallen asleep on the couch and our internal clocks were messed up. By the time we woke up, it was half past six and neither of us had showered yet. 

“Do you think I should put on the blue dress or the ivory?” I asked David, holding the only two dresses which had been in my bag in front of the mirror and pondering which one looked better on my skin. He came out of the bathroom, his hair still wet but he never bothered blow drying it, instead just letting the excess water drop to the ground or on his towel. 

“I’m sure Mr and Mrs Hilts won’t care much about your clothes so just pick whatever,” David exhaled, not even taking a look at the dresses. Instead, he disappeared into the walk-in dresser and came out fully dressed in less than a minute. 

I was still standing in front of the mirror, considering the options. “I like the blue colour better but the ivory one has a better cut.” I said out loud to myself. Through the mirror, I saw David throw his head back with despair because closing in to me from behind and ceremoniously placing his cold hands on my shoulders, looking into the mirror. 

He frowned for a couple of seconds and my eyes immediately went to the short stubble he now sported as part of our disguise. I still hadn’t decided whether I liked him better clean shaven or like this, but I did appreciate the rubbing of his stubble against the soft skin inside my thighs, I considered with a small smirk. “Take the ivory one,” Dave decided before moving away to go put his shoes on. 

“Why?” 

“Because I like the colour on you.”

-/-/-/- /-

“Welcome,” Hilda exclaimed, smiling brightly as she opened the front of door. David and I were standing awkwardly together under the porch, his hand on my waist as I held an industrial cake we were going to try and pass off as homemade. 

At once, George appeared out of nowhere and we all greeted each other. I was mortified but David seemed rather at ease. I supposed real adults dined with their neighbours on occasion, and David was indeed a real adult. They led us to the living room and we all sat down on their velvety sofas around some Port Wine. I almost choked when I recognized it as my family’s but David was there to hit my back although it wasn’t yet necessary. “Thank you, honey,” I said sweetly with an overdone smile on my face as David retook his previous seat. He was shaking slightly, as if trying to suppress a laugh. 

“I’m going to the kitchen and make sure everything’s ready,” Hilda announced out of nowhere before standing up just as suddenly and disappearing into the kitchen. I stayed in living room until George stared at me rather curiously and David tilted his head, towards the kitchen. This gender roles again, I thought with annoyance. 

“Do you need help, Mrs Hilts?” I inquired, once inside the old-fashioned kitchen. Hilda was taking out broiled meat from the oven, but she turned around to smile at me. 

“Oh, call me Hilda please,” the old woman asked mockingly before setting down the metallic on the counter, over some cork circles. “You wouldn’t mind dressing the salad?” 

I spun around to find the big ass bowl of green salad sitting on the kitchen table. “Of course not,” I replied, with a smile that wasn’t quite genuine. “Is the vinaigrette in the refrigerator?”

“I never buy prepared salad dressing, it’s no good,” Hilda explained before starting a long rant on how industrial salad dressing is bad for the cholesterol and has no taste. 

Hesitantly, I picked up the vinegar bottle from the counter before adding some. I had no idea what the hell I was doing, I had never made salad dressing in my life but somehow, I didn’t think admitting that to Hilda would benefit me in any way. 

“Eric and you are a lovely couple,” Hilda mentioned out of nowhere with that sweet voice only old women had. “How long have you been married for?”

I added a pinch of salt to the mixture and then considered adding a second one. Everyone liked salt, right? “About three years now,” I replied, my brows knitted together as I tried to remember the info on the sheet the Police had given us. Silently, I went over the main things in my head: My name is Alice Davis. Born and raised in Manchester. I’m twenty-seven years old. 

“The first years of marriage are the hardest,” Hilda chuckled with the blood covered knife in her hand which made for a peculiar sight. “Afterwards, time just flies by!”

“I’ll take your word on that,” I said, chuckling nervously as I added some olive oil and stared at the brown coloured mixture I had made. “How long have you and Mr Hilts been married for?”

“Fifty-four years,” Hilda replied at once before turning to me as started shuffling the lettuce leaves, pretending everything was fine. “I was only twenty-two when I married George.” Hilda continued and I almost blurted out about that being an early age to marry until I bit my tongue, remembering I was supposed to gotten hitched at twenty-four while in the 21st century. “But don’t hope for too much!” She added quickly. “Men never change their habits and I still have to pick up his dirty clothes from the ground.”

For some reason, her words stuck in my head. David didn’t leave his dirty clothes on the floor, but he did walk around barefoot after the shower, leaving water marks all around and he never remembered where to put the milk. It could be worse, I could live with that I guessed before realizing that I was getting ahead of myself. 

“Do you have any children?” I asked, trying to make conversation as I dipped my finger on the dressing and tasted it. It was awfully sour and I couldn’t help but to grimace. 

“Five children and twelve grand-children,” Hilda announced proudly before turning to me with the meat neatly cut displayed on a porcelain platter. Well, their bed did go through a lot, I thought amusedly before following her into the dining room. 

“Dinner’s ready!” She called out before leaving again because she had forgotten to bring water. David and George both got up from to couch and I sneakily pinched David’s ass when he walked past me. 

“What was that for?” He asked in a hushed voice, looking down at me with confusion. 

“If anyone asks, you say the salad’s to your taste,” I whispered, warning him but he still appeared puzzled and he sat down on a chair, facing George. 

Hilda showed up again with a jug of water and we finally sat down to have dinner. George filled our glasses with red wine and I didn’t dare saying I didn’t like it. Everyone helped themselves to the food and I had to admit, Hilda’s cuisine was a lot better than whatever David and I managed to put together next door. But then David took a mouthful of salad before grimacing and coughing into his hand. I looked at him pointedly but he was too busy trying not to gag to notice. At least, George and Hilda were polite enough to cough in silence. 

“Are you planning on staying here long term?” George asked eventually once the hunger had subsided and we were only still eating out of gluttony. His question took me by surprise and I couldn’t remember whether that topic was addressed on the file. 

“Most likely, yes,” David replied and I had to stop myself from turning towards him with raised eyebrows. I’d never consider staying long term in fucking Avebury. “Alice and I are enjoying being away from a big city like Manchester and loving the nature. And we do work from home.” I pondered his answer in my head but he did make a point if it wasn’t for my pollen allergies he didn’t know of. 

“You should,” George replied with a full mouth and Hilda immediately chastised him. This time, George took the time to finish eating before talking again. “There are some nice primary schools around here, as well.” I seriously doubted that considering I hadn’t seen a single child running around since being deserted here, but whatever floated his boat, I supposed. 

“Oh yes, that would be lovely!” Hilda exclaimed joyfully before clapping her hands excitedly. David and I went rigid at once, alerted by the sound until our senses realized there was no harm in sight. “When are you planning on having children?” Hilda inquired and David almost choked again next to me. It took all my determination to keep myself from laughing out loud at his reaction. Even in the 21st century, as a female, I was used to people asking me intimate questions like this out of nowhere. Men, obviously weren’t. 

I was about to reply, before considering my answer and deciding it was time to get revenge for his choking on my salad. “We have been trying for almost an entire year, actually,” I said calmly before taking a sip of wine. All eyes were now on me, especially David’s blue ones. “We had some tests done and it turns out Eric has fertility problems.” I elaborated nonchalantly, but daring a quick peak at David, I noticed him turning red. He was mortified.

The Hilts’ attention had now diverted to him and I was impatient to hear what he would say. “Err, yes,” David stuttered but the old couple was still listening intently, they weren’t dropping the juicy topic. “I have a low sperm count.” David finally said and I had to turn away from them so they wouldn’t notice my silent laugh. I honestly didn’t regret coming to dinner now, this was more fun than I had expected. 

“Don’t worry, Eric,” Hilda said softly, patting David’s hand on the table. “It’s just a matter of time I’m sure.” The muscles on my cheeks were hurting now and tears were pooling at my eyes. I quickly excused myself, saying I needed the loo. Disappearing behind the old couple, David looked at me, silently begging me to help him but I was genuinely heaving with laughter now. 

“Listen to me, boy,” George said, somewhat lower and I stopped in the corridor, curiosity getting the best of me. “It’s all about the position!” I laughed so hard at his words, I almost peed myself. 

When I returned, David was ready to leave but I was having too much so we ended up staying over an hour still, playing cards. 

-/-/-/-/

“What was that for?” David blurted out, locking the front door behind ourselves but I was already holding on to the stairway, my belly muscles hurting. 

“For coughing at my salad,” I replied honestly, wiping the last tear away from my eye before heading to the dining table to put my coat on the chair. David followed me soon after, and I wondered if I had better apologize. 

“So I cough at your extremely sour dressing and you react by embarrassing me in front of that old couple?” David said accusingly and I nodded, still grinning. “I’m going to be gossiped about in the entire village!”

David approached me and for an instant I worried he was genuinely mad at me. “It’s Eric they’re going to gossip about,” I replied softly, trying to diffuse the tension. “I know your sperm count is perfectly fine,” I added when David kept on staring at me with an unreadable look on his face, his body only inches away from mine. Well, I didn’t know it first hand, but he did have two kids. 

And just when I thought I really ought to apologize, David closed in the small distance between and started kissing me out of nowhere. It took me by surprise but I quickly reciprocated. His left hand went to my nape, pulling me even closer to him while he lifted me up with his right arm until I was sitting on the table.

I pulled away from him for a few seconds, panting but his warm breath tingled on the cool skin of my throat and I was unable to catch my breath as David started to nibble on the sensitive skin above my carotid. I smirked to myself when I realized this David’s way of rebuilding his ego, not that I’d complain. Without thinking, I slid my hands beneath his black t-shirt before pulling it over his head and throwing it somewhere. Not wasting time, David started unzipping my ivory dress as I fumbled with his belt and zipper. And then, both naked within seconds, Dave entered me without a warning and I gasped against his shoulder. 

-/-/-/-/

* Confession time: I’ve never been grocery shopping in the UK. I’ve only ever lived in continental Europe and in the US for a few months. In Europe, you need to put the groceries inside the bags by yourself but in the US they do it for you, but I have no idea how it works in the UK.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you probably don't care but my life is a mess right now and I'm just barely holding my shit together (pardon my french). Anyway, here's chapter fifteen and it's quite rich in action.
> 
> Also, I've started writing a new story, about Robb Stark (I'm rather obsessed with Richard Madden at the moment, in case you haven't noticed.) Anyway, it's called Across The Narrow Sea and I ask you readers to check it out
> 
> Please do not forgot to vote and comment, it's what keeps me going in the dark night, full of terrors.
> 
> PS: I'm not drunk.

The dream was coming to an end. I could feel it, sense it, the way the edges started to darken until finally the whole image turned black. And then, there was a hand against my mouth, pressing down firmly so that I wouldn’t, couldn’t scream. Following my instincts, I bit down hard before trying to pull away from the assailant. 

“Alma.” David urgently whispered my name and I opened my eyes at once, realizing it was just him. He appeared worried, deep frowns on his forehead as he brought his finger to his lips and gestured for me to remain quiet. Still startled and confused, I nodded hesitantly. “Listen.” He instructed. 

I did as asked but with one ear firmly pressed against the pillow and sleep still weighing me down, I couldn’t make out anything. “Someone’s in here,” David finally explained and it was my turn to frown. I hadn’t heard anything. “I’m going downstairs. You stay here and lock the door,” David ordered once again before swiftly jumping out of bed, making no noise in the process. He stopped by the window a quick second, peaking outside before grabbing his gun and leaving me alone. 

I sighed deeply, before stretching out in bed and glancing at the battery-powered alarm clock. It was little after three in the morning. Surely it was nothing, just the wind or maybe a mouse, the house was old after all. The alarms would have gone off if there had been an intruder, there were sensors by every window and every door. David was just overreacting, I told myself before pushing back the covers and leaving the bed. If I was up at this hour, I might just as well get myself a snack from the kitchen. 

The room was colder than I had expected so I put on David’s shirt without bothering to button it up all the way up. I still couldn’t hear any anything out of the usual, and softly shook my head, sighing, before walking into the en-suite bathroom. Absentmindedly, my fingers grazed over the light switch but the bathroom remained dark. I tried once again but it still didn’t work. 

“Stupid old house,” I murmured under my breath, resigned to use the loo in darkness. 

Stepping out the bathroom again, I walked over to the bedroom door, reaching for the handle when the door flew open, almost hitting my face. Before I could even think about screaming, the intruder showed me his badge. “Police constable, Devron.” The young man announced as I read his badge. When he was sure I was done, he put it back inside his jacket pocket, the police cap almost falling off his head. 

“What’s going on?” I asked with a mixture of worry and suspicion as I let the man inside the room. “Why didn’t you ring the doorbell instead of breaking in?”

“The power is out and the doorbell is electric, miss,” Devron explained, walking inside the room like he owned the place. “We’ve got Nadia Ali and her accomplices in custody.” He informed me, after a quick inspection of the room. What exactly had he been expecting to find?

“And this couldn’t wait until morning?” I complied with a yawn, leaning against the wall. 

“I’m afraid not, miss,” Devron replied curtly, his bulletproof vest making him look bulkier than he most likely truly was. “PM Julia Montague herself asked for you to be brought back to London as soon as Nadia Ali was captured.” 

I couldn’t help the way my brows furrowed at his words. Julia was no longer Home Secretary, terrorism was no longer within her area of competence. That was Mike Travis’ job now. “Very well, let your colleagues downstairs know I need to pack a few things first.”

“Miss, we will send someone to collect your belongings in the morning,” Officer Devron objected, as politely as ever, but nonetheless firmly and I was slowly growing weary of him though I couldn’t pinpoint the reason. 

“I don’t doubt that, officer.” I said rather rudely, a fake smile plastered on my lips. “But you’ll understand I’d rather take my toiletry bag and change into something more appropriate before following you.” I saw his gaze drop from my face to my body and the blush appear on his cheeks as he realized my state of undress. 

He slowly, almost unnaturally so, retrieved the radio from his vest and brought it to his mouth. “Miss Guinness requires a few more moments. We will be down shortly.” 

I had to stop myself from saying anything when he called me Miss Guinness instead of ‘flapper’ on the radio. David had told me, around lunch a few days ago, that once you got a nickname in the Police, you kept it for life. But Devron looked young, most likely he was just a little nervous. 

“Copy that.”

“Sergeant David Budd doesn’t want to change as well?” I inquired lightly, picking out some fresh clothes and underwear from the dresser. Devron was still, very still as his hand rested on the gun at his waist. 

“No, miss. He didn’t ask.” Devron said after too many seconds had passed but I merely nodded before walking into the bathroom and cursing internally as I realized the door had no lock and I wouldn’t be able to see anything if I closed the door entirely since the power was out. Why would David want to leave the house in nothing but his boxers?

My rational priority would have been to change into something more comfortable but I only now realized how fast my heart was beating and how I could hear the blood pumping in my arteries. For a split second, I worried I’d have another panic attack until I realized it was just adrenaline and a bad gut feeling. But why? It was just the Police. But then, why hadn’t David come back upstairs, at least to let me know everything was alright? 

“Shit, David,” I cursed in a whisper, my hands trembling as I gathered toothbrush, hairbrush and all that to put it inside the toiletry bag. It didn’t properly fit inside and I had to use strength to force it down. Due to my shaking hands, the bag fell to the ground with a loud bang. 

A shout travelled its way all up to my ears and I remained frozen, squatting on the bathroom floor, my hand reaching for the toothpaste. It was David’s voice, I was certain of it. And then, there was a muffled gunshot noise. 

I had no time to think it through as my hand grabbed the inox scissors instead of the toothpaste and I pulled myself to a standing position again. Almost simultaneously, Devron forcefully pulled the door open and he stepped inside, gun in hand, finger on the trigger. He tried to point it at my head, but I kicked the gun out of his hand before he had a chance to and the bullet shot through the muzzle, straight to the mirror which exploded into a thousand shards. 

The noise startled me, the feel of glass falling on my skin almost in slow-motion until I noticed Devron reaching for me again at high speed. His hands twisted around my neck, almost lifting me off the ground. And then my body reacted almost without waiting for my brain to order it. I felt the scissors pierce through the skin of his throat, at the first there was resistance, like a small reminder that what I was doing was wrong, but then blood started squirting out of the wound, covering my face with it before his hands around my neck went limp. 

“Shit!” I cried out as Devron slid to the ground, his hands desperately clenching at his wound but blood kept splattering out. I leaned down and for a moment, I believed I was going to help him, apply pressure to the wound. Instead, my hand reached for the gun next to him on the ground and before I could regret it, I leapt outside the bathroom. 

My feet slipped on the bedroom floor and a quick glance downwards told me I had stepped on glass and was slipping on my own blood. I felt my stomach clench as I ran to the bedroom door, gun in hand and pulled it wide open. Holding the door handle for balance, I ran into the hallway and came face to face with another Police Officer who was dressed just like Devron. He was older, larger. 

This time I didn’t hesitate, immediately raising my arm and pulling the trigger. I wanted to watch as the bullet pierced through his forehead and his body fell to the ground, but I didn’t have the time. Almost on auto-pilot, I ran down the stairs, tripping on the olive green carpet a couple of times and grabbing the handrail at the last possible moment. 

There were two corpses on the floor, just by the entrance. I stepped on them in the darkness and the squishy sound almost made me vomit in my mouth. I followed the noise into the living room and witnessed David on the ground fist fighting another Police officer who appeared to have the upper hand until David managed to grab a large iron candleholder from the coffee table and hit the other man’s head with it. 

I pulled the body away from David, hearing it fall to the ground with a loud thump as a smartphone fell out of his pocket. David managed to pull himself up to a standing position, breathing with difficulty as I watched his body covered in blood. At once, I reached out for him, wanting to help until I saw my own hands and arm sleeves, stained red. 

Without a word, David pulled me into a tight hug and I noticed the bullet hole in his shoulder, not far from his chest. “It’s okay, love. Everything okay,” David promised, kissing my forehead and running his hand through my hair as I cried into his chest. 

I knew he was lying but I so desperately wanted to believe him. I felt David move away from me and immediately opened my eyes in fear, until I realized he had just crouched down to pick up the dead man’s phone. 

David cursed, looking at the screen. I looked up at him with confusion and he simply handed me the phone so I could read. 

“More resistance than expected. Send reinforcement.”  
“2 cars on their way. ETA 3:25.” 

At once, I tapped the screen and noticed it was already 3:22. 

“We should call the Police.” I said eventually. But David shook his head before leaning over the body and unzipping the bulletproof vest. 

“Go to the garage, turn on the car. I’ll join you after I’ve collected their weapons.” David groaned as he lifted the dead body off the ground. “If I don’t come, you leave. Do you hear me?” He said in such a ferocious tone I wasn’t familiar with. I wanted to object, but his cold stare told me that would be pointless so I ran downstairs, trying not to tumble in the darkness. 

I pressed the button to open the garage door but it didn’t budge. I tried again and again until I remembered there was no power. It was then that tears started spilling out of my eyes. All I wanted to do was scream and cry, but I didn’t allow myself that luxury and picked up the car key before opening the driver’s door and turning on the engine. The garage was dark, darker even than the rest of the house but thanks to the car’s headlights I was able to find the crank. It was heavy, too heavy and it took me all of my strength to turn it. 

Between the tiny slots of the door blinds, I saw two black cars pull up and stop on the east side of the road. Cursing under my breath, I ran back to the car to turn off its headlights before continuing rolling up the door, glad the front of door was on the other side of the house. 

I went to sit down behind the steering wheel, wanting to be ready to drive off as soon as David was here but I heard the front door open and close and there was still no sight of him. A part of me wanted to go back upstairs and do something, another part of me told me to have faith in him. Time seemed to go too fast and too slow all at once: I felt like I had been waiting for ages for David though it had barely been three minutes and yet every second the men were inside felt like an eternity.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps and the back passenger door was opened. “Drive, Alma! Just go!” He shouted, throwing a large duffel bag inside the binnacle before entering himself. I did as I was told, pressing down the gas pedal with my bleeding foot without worrying about scratching the car. 

David was looking through the back window, gun in hand, and I dared a quick peak on the side mirrors, noticing black figures exiting the house and running to their cars. “Where should I drive?” I asked in panic, my heart beating too fast and my hands slippery on wheel. 

“Doesn’t matter. Just drive fast, love!” David shouted although we were barely a few feet away from each other. 

Tears started running down my cheeks again, momentarily blurring my vision as I took the first highway entrance I could find. It started raining heavily and the windshield wipers didn’t help much at this point. I just kept on pressing the gas pedal and avoiding collisions with other drivers. 

After what felt like an eternity, David joined me in the front but his gaze never left the mirrors. He was bruised, severely so and the wound on his shoulder still kept oozing blood, his current state of undress doing little to hide it. I wanted to say something, offer comforting words but at this point, no sounds came from my dry mouth. “I think we’ve lost them.” He announced after a while. 

“We should call the Police,” I deadpanned, taking the first exit on the right. 

“We can’t do that,” he objected, shaking his head. He was right, we didn’t even have the satellite phone at this point. 

“We should go to the nearest Police station, then,” I insisted, hoping one such station would miraculously appear in front of us. “We were attacked!” I yelled hysterically. 

“Listen to me, love,” David whispered softly, resting his bloodied on my naked thigh. “They cut off the power, the security cameras weren’t working. When the Police, the uncorrupted one, get there, all they’ll see are dead police officers and they’ll think we did it.” He explained, comfortingly squeezing my flesh. He had a point, he did but all I felt was the bile rising up in my stomach as I remembered what I had just done. 

I took the first turn right, sharply, before realizing it wasn’t a road at all but a path to the forest. I drove in as far as possible but soon enough the trees became too dense and I had no option but to stop. I tried taking a few deep breaths but the air in the car felt too warm and sticky. Carelessly, I threw open the car door, letting it hit a tree. 

Heavy rain poured down on my body but the drops became reddish as soon as they touched my skin. It made me want to throw up but instead I screamed with all my lungs before repeatedly hitting a tree trunk with my fist and hurting myself in the process. 

Without warning, warm arms circled my body from behind, holding my own arms prisoners between them. David held me tight even as I kicked his legs, trying to set myself free but he didn’t let go of me. Instead, he lifted me off the ground, letting my feet kick the air instead and making me feel powerless. 

“Just let go of me, David,” I cried out, tears and rain now dripping inside my mouth but looking at the sky, all I could see was Devron and the way blood squirted out of his artery. Endlessly splashing my face as if he didn’t run out of it. And then the other man, the other whose face I had barely registered before I pulled the trigger. 

“Love, listen to me,” David pleaded, too strong for me to overpower. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise.”

Against my will, I felt my body slowly go limp in his arms as if I had run out of strength. The rain was cold now, so was the wind and everything else. “I killed someone,” I whispered, saying it out loud for the first time. “I killed two men.”

Carefully, he let me back me down to my feet but didn’t set me free. “You did it, because you had to, Alma. It was them or you, and your life is worth a thousand of these men.” He said softly. I didn’t agree. A life for a life, maybe, and I had taken two. “I’m sorry you had to do that, love. I should have protected you,” he admitted with regret. 

We stood there in the rain for a long time, until I felt my lips turn blue and our bodies were both shaking against each other, the fabric of his shirt clinging to both our skins. I looked down at his thumb, holding my hands together against my chest. It appeared broken and I felt the sudden, irrational urge to kiss it which made me realize one thing. “I think I love you, David,” I admitted, my voice so weak I wasn’t sure he’d hear me. 

“I love you too, Alma,” he replied after a few seconds had passed. It was the first time we had said it out loud, though at least for me, it had been true a long time ago. 

“Where do we go now?” I asked hesitantly, hoping he’d have an answer. 

“Scotland.”


End file.
